Devil's Dance
by Piano'sIrishTater
Summary: Trapped as a member of the Nazi regime against his will, every day Ludwig is forced to rid the world of more human lives, committing the genocide he wants no part in. A German soldier during Holocaustal times, he must follow his orders, if only to spare himself from the clutches of death. But when another cart rolls up to Aushwitz, a new, unexpected feeling dawns in his heart.
1. A Burning

**Hello everyone! So it's been a very long time since i've submitted a fanfiction...but now that summer is here and i have time again, i decided to go digging through my old stories and i found this little number. I hope you enjoy it, and please, don't ridicule my cruddy German...i don't speak it and neither does the translator i used! :D Have fun!**

The fire was burning high. From where I stood, it seemed to be licking the clear, dark night with its bright orange flames, the smoke plume incredible as it dissipated endlessly into the air. It seemed like the sort of night made for silent wonder, the stars shining brightly, uncovered by even the most miniscule clouds…If not for the screams of pain and terror before me, I might have believed all was right with the world.

Temporarily distracted from my star-gazing, I surveyed the scene, my stomach clenching with the filth of this institution. Eyes narrowing, I watched as a new truck filled to the brim with the unwanted pulled up to the gates of Auschwitz. Forced into silence, I could not tell these terrified Jews, Catholics, gays, gypsies, whatever it was they were, to run. I could not tell them to lie about their ages, occupations, health. I was obedient. A well-trained and disciplined Nazi officer. I was the one who determined who lived and who died.

The new cart was emptied, the occupants lined up before me.

Victims. Most who would never see another day. Many who would die in the process of working for their freedom. Many who would survive to the very end of this war, only to suffer death not much long after. Many who would be gassed, burned, starved, diseased, experimented on, worked until there wasn't a single part of them left. With the sturdiness of any other German soldier doing his duty, I let my eyes graze all of their faces, committing to memory the mass of lives I was just moments from ending.

In my own language, I ordered the first man to come forward. After a thorough investigation, I deemed him suitable; his age, past occupation, and health were all in order. Sighing in relief, I barely had time to think before the next person, a little girl, came forward. Closing my eyes and gritting my teeth, I spat furiously for a fellow officer to get rid of her, feeling the guilt building.

By the time the last men in the line had reached me, I was physically exhausted from the pain in my heart. Miserably, I examined the first one of an apparent set of twins…he was absolutely pathetic for the age he appeared. His body was slim and girlish, and he was pleading with me in Italian to spare his life, sobbing endlessly, which made it difficult to give him any form of thorough health examination.

"_Halt die Klappe!" _I ordered, but this just seemed to frighten him more.

"Please, please, don't kill me!" he cried, suddenly changing to English. "I'm too young to die! I don't have a job, but please I'm good and healthy and I won't cause any problems! I can work really good and as long as I have my pasta, I-"

Confused, I felt as if I had no choice but to shove him with the butt of my gun to silence his babble. "Quiet! You will stop moving for examination!" I demanded, also using English in an attempt to calm the man down.

He stared up at me, tears still leaking out of his amber eyes. Quivering, he stood as still as he could in silence, watching me in fear as I assessed him. After determining him healthy enough, I decided to keep him around, despite his useless appearance. There was no way I could make myself burn this man…Something about his unusual innocence made me reluctant. Switching back to German, I called for my comrades to take both twins to a block.

They seemed relieved, both brothers wailing in joy that they'd lived as they were taken away.

If only they knew the fate that awaited them…

Sighing, I removed my thick, black leather gloves and rubbed my temples, straightening my hat as I strolled over to where my fellow officers were waiting. With the same piercing blue eyes that I possessed, they looked me over, clearly judging my weakness in letting so many of the unwanted survive. I had always been the weakest member of the Nazi regime in their minds.

"Beilschmidt, you let the Italian twins in?" scoffed the Colonel. "What do you think this is, a game?"

I remained silent, staring into the fire pit of the dead tensely.

"Personally, I would have killed them on the spot!" said another. "They were weak, pathetic Catholics from a tiny village we ransacked in Italy! But you…you're sadistic." He grinned at me, giving my shoulder a shove. "You prefer to let them live just to watch them suffer later! You like to watch them struggle through every day, starving to death, working from dawn until dusk!"

The other men cracked up laughing; I stared at them tersely, not finding their sense of humor amusing. "Maybe they can become useful to us."

This statement sent them into even deeper hysterics.

"Yeah, Ludwig, keep dreaming! Ah, here we are, a new load! This time, I will be the one to show you what real selection is like!"

Displeased, I watched as my fellow Nazi left to begin his duty, before turning away, more than ready to be assigned to a block. This would be the last truck full for tonight; tomorrow, we would begin working them. We would each be assigned a block of these undesirables to discipline and do with them as we pleased; the more painful it was to them, the better. For the weak and feeble, the first few weeks would mark their graves. As our blocks occupants grew weaker, we were required to dispose of them. In this way, many would be promised showers and then promptly and unexpectedly gassed.

Just as the last of the cart was thrown into the fire to burn, the highest commanding officer, General Schnitzel, arrived, shouting stark, short commands for us to line up so we would therefore be assigned to our groups. He strode by, and I was ordered to take on block number seven. Shortly after, we were dismissed to go check on our own blocks before forcing them all to the dining hall.

I arrived at block seven with my gun erect and ready at my side, my uniform straight, all business as I strode in. The people cowered away from me as I entered, as if one wrong move would cause me to explode. Meticulously, I studied the familiar faces; these were all ones that I had saved today. And there, in the very back with his twin brother, was the man who had pled with me to spare him. His eyes were closed now and he was lying back on his bed, his brother curled up close at his side.

Were they….sleeping?! At a time like this?!

"Everybody UP!" I demanded, staring ferociously at the two Italians in particular.

Nothing seemed inclined to make them move, not even my shouts. Enraged, I made my way over to them and yanked them both up by their shirts, spitting in their faces, "_Steht auf_!"

The smaller one's eyes bolted open, the absolute terror I saw in his amber irises startling me. Who was this man? Shocking me motionless, the little Italian easily yanked himself out of my grip and was suddenly on his knees in front of me, pleading for his life yet again. His auburn hair stuck out haphazardly in every direction, giving him a look of incredible innocence and child-like composure as he cried at my feet. I blinked in confusion, an unfamiliar feeling coming into my heart as I registered.

How could any man possibly be so…_girly_?!

Even more aggravated, I threw the other brother, who had awoken and started yelling profanities at me, onto the floor and pulled the smaller one up yet again. "What is your name?" I found myself asking this lowly little abomination.

And as suddenly as it had started, his crying halted, and he gave me a happy, very strange smile. "I'm Feliciano Vargas!" he told me, an absolutely idiotic smile stretching his lips.

I stared hard at the overall brightness of him, taking in everything... yet registering nothing. "Put on your clothes!" was all I could manage, shoving a dull gray jumpsuit at him.

He stared at the hideous clothing with a hint of sadness, but stripped down naked in front of everyone carelessly to put it on, clearly in no way self-conscious. For some odd reason, I found myself turning away from him nervously when he was down to just his underwear…instead of watching, I ordered the other prisoners to line up at the door, casting my voice in a threatening fashion as I had been instructed.

In no way should these people feel comfortable. They were here only to work for Germany, and nothing more. They would create the items we required to win this war, no matter the cost. The more that perished, the better. After all, there was an endless supply of worthless Jews in the world. It didn't matter. _They_ didn't matter. And that was an order.

After getting my block lined up, they were taken to the dining hall to enjoy their very first helpings of soup, stale bread, and coffee. I felt a pang of pity for Feliciano as I sat eating my own much more nutritious meal with my fellow soldiers…he was staring down at his food with more distaste than I assumed such an effeminate man had. His brother, meanwhile, was wolfing down his own dinner, too hungry to care that it wasn't their beloved pasta.

I was quickly reminded of my own brother, stuck in my cellar at home, hiding from the same Nazi regime I belonged to. In fear that Gilbert would be taken away, our mother had, in a last attempt to save him, hidden him below the ground and let the officers take her away instead…As albinos, they were considered undesirable pieces of garbage. Now he could do nothing but wait for me to come home and care for him, though despite this, he seemed to be living his life to the fullest by transforming the cellar into what he referred to as "the awesome chamber."

I found myself unable to look away as I watched Feliciano take that first bite of putrid soup. He shivered and gagged, but continued to eat, closing his eyes so he didn't have to watch. Shifting uncomfortably, I imagined myself taking my plate over to him, watching his gratitude as he took a bite. Would he…accept it or reject it? I shook myself hurriedly, realizing there was no way I would be able to get away with giving him anything.

"Beilschmidt!"

The sound of the General's fury woke me from my daze and I found myself on my feet and saluting before it had even fully registered. "Sir!"

"Take your vermin back to the block!" he demanded, his pudgy face wrinkling and turning an ugly shade of red.

"Sir!"I repeated, embarrassed that I had been so caught up in my thoughts of saving that same "vermin" the General was referring to that I hadn't heard him. Without wasting anymore time, I escorted my group back to their block, ordering them into their beds.

"Two to a bunk!" I demanded, hoping fervently the group wasn't so large I would have to push the number up.

Thankfully, when I studied them again, they were all safely tucked away, staring at me with burning hatred in their terrified eyes. I sighed, avoiding their gazes as I noticed someone coming up to the door through a filthy window. Hurriedly, I opened it to find a younger soldier standing on the stoop, his eyes alight with mixed emotions.

"Word from the General!" he announced, speaking in German so as not to alarm the prisoners more.

"Yes, what is it?" I asked, eyeing the other blocks warily as my fellow soldiers shoved our hostages towards the "showers" to be gassed.

The young soldier looked slightly disturbed as he said, "Well, it seems that your block is to work NOW."

I stared at him, speechless…relieved. Unable to help myself, I glanced in the door over my shoulder at the little Italians cowering in the back corner, their eyes on me. Seeing that I was looking at him, the small one gave a quick smile and uttered a quiet, "Ve~!" I turned back to the soldier and robotically saluted him, watching his back as he scuttled away to deliver more orders.

"Alright!" I hollered, startling the group of men into silence. "I have received orders! You are to work tonight!"

A few of the new arrivals groaned, but the older ones knew better; they silenced themselves quickly as I glared ferociously at them. With no other options, they began to line up.

"Ve~," the little red-head sputtered again as he sauntered up beside me, the smile still on his face. "Where are we going, Mr. German, sir?"

I glared down at him, appalled by how stunningly childish he was. "You will not call me Mr. German!" I demanded, my voice rough. "And you will not smile!" I added, as he grinned up at me, causing my heart to race.

As a result, his smile turned down a little, and he gazed up at me in confusion. "But I'm happy! And when you're happy, you've got to smile!" he informed me, grinning boldly again.

The other prisoners gaped at him as if he'd gone insane.

I felt my control slowly slipping, his innocent demeanor quelling my resistance. Finally, after staring at him for what felt like hours, I shoved him back in line and hollered angrily, "You will not be happy!"

He gave me a salute, his eyes squidging shut as if he were mocking me, and said, "Yes, sir!"

I tried not to dwell on him as I led my group to the fields where they would be working tonight, digging graves for the mass of bodies piling up around the camp. All throughout the night, I kept watch as they dug and pulled, saying nothing to each other as they shoveled the rancid, blood-stained dirt. Though it was my duty to keep my eyes on the group as a whole, my eyes couldn't help but shift to the Italian once again.

He was pulling as hard as he could at the rocky ground, his skinny arms not even strong enough to pull a single clump onto his shovel. Even after being at it for hours, he hadn't moved a single grain. An alarming thought pulsed through my mind; the Nazi's always targeted the weak to dispose of. If they found this boy, who was too weak to move a single section of dirt, he wouldn't last long. They would kill him, maybe even bury him alive.

"You!" I shouted, acting as if to scold him so as not to attract the attention of the soldiers. I came up behind him, blocking everyone else's view with my body, and whispered, ignoring the way he began quivering, "Do you want to die? No? Then you will not say anything!"

Hurriedly, I took his arms and guided them to the shovel. Then, using my own strength, I helped him break the ground and scoop the dirt into a pile. Having no choice to press hard on him to make him cry out, to fool the other guards, I continued to help him until he'd caught up with the other prisoners work. Then I released him and, not daring to look down and see his face, I gave him one last smack with my rifle and walked away, wiping my face clean of emotion as I stomped back to observe the others.

Far away, I risked a glance at him and immediately wished I hadn't.

He was crying and trembling, his face filled with fear as he feebly scooped. His smile had vanished, along with his childish ecstasy, and he was halfway cradling his arm, a bright purple bruise now forming across his skin.

Had I really caused that?

I looked on in horror as he continued to struggle, until someone gave me a brotherly punch on the arm and laughed, "You really showed that one, Ludwig! What did you say to him?! Look at his face!"

I turned on him, grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt.


	2. Selfless Prayers

**Hey, guys :) So, here's chapter two! I apologize if it sounds a little rushed, but i really wanted to get a second chapter out before i went on my trip to Europe on Monday...I've been so busy with packing, it's been difficult to find the time to write! Thank you for your patience with me and please enjoy the fic :D I will continue to work hard on it after i get back home! Oh, and lots of thanks to those who reviewed my first chapter! You're all awesomesauce in my tater eyes!**

I looked into the man's wide, shocked eyes with ferocity, instinctively bringing my fist up. However, before I could punch him, I dropped it again and released my hold on his shirt, pushing him away from me. "I said nothing he did not deserve," I answered gruffly, disbelieving I had actually reacted so defensively to protect a prisoner.

The man cursed at me under his breath, but I simply turned and attempted to regain the composure I had somehow allowed myself to lose. Bringing a gloved hand up, I removed my hat and wiped the beading sweat from my forehead, surveying the horrendous scene before me. Everyone was hard at work, struggling desperately for the lives they clung to, the prospect of escape the only thing keeping them moving. Some were only skin and bones by now, skeletons digging the graves they would soon occupy themselves…Again, my eyes drifted to Feliciano, his body still fleshy and healthy, aside from the raging purple bruise I had just caused.

He was still trying to move the dirt like I had ordered, but I could tell that despite his actual lack of work, he was tiring quickly. It seemed he had never done physical labor in his entire life. This was no place to show weakness and yet there he was, sobbing like a newborn baby. With every tear that slid down his cheek, I felt guiltier about yelling at him, abusing him like a piece of trash.

I had only been trying to save his pathetic life!

Frustrated at these weak feelings, I patrolled around the other prisoners, who were all doing their best to work quickly and sufficiently, despite their starvation. They glanced at me in sheer terror as I walked by, the face of helpless prey before a beast. I kept my expression neutral, though every look brought more disgust at this operation. Perhaps Hitler did see them as vermin, but he did not have to see their expressions, watch them waste away to nothing under the misery. As I circled my block, I noticed with minor curiosity that the little Italian seemed to be watching me.

Yet whenever I looked toward him, he would duck his head and whimper. What was this? A game? Sighing, I narrowed my eyes and adjusted my gun over my shoulder. He was still not working nearly fast enough, his pile of dirt hardly bigger than an anthill. Watching him, I was suddenly concerned for his life once again. It would not be long until General Schmitt arrived for the selection. If he saw this…he would take him to the gas chambers immediately.

The mere thought had me clenching my teeth. I had to make him work, even if it meant making him despise me in the process. Taking a deep breath, I put on my most frightening expression and stormed over to him, grabbing him by the arm where I had before. He cried out in pain and fear, finally looking me in the eyes.

"Did you not hear me before, you damned Papist?" I hissed, jabbing him in the side with my gun, my finger on the trigger. "Work! This will get you killed quicker! If you do not want me to shoot you, you will _move_!"

Desperately, he started shoveling as fast as his noodle arms would go, piling dirt at a speed I would not have believed possible for such a man. Apparently anybody could move quickly with a gun in their side. I exhaled my relief as the anthill began to grow into a reasonably sized pile for the amount of time they had been given. However, he was gasping for breath by the time the General appeared, ordering the "filth" to continue working while he evaluated their strength, color, and stamina. My heart began to pound frantically in my chest as he approached Feliciano and his twin, the two very obvious weaklings of my block.

There was nothing I could do now but watch the evaluation and pray.

"You!" he called, his keen eyes scanning the group and selecting a man.

I watched with guilty solace as an older man, his gray skin clenching tightly around his bones, limped his way toward the General, entirely aware of where it was he was being taken now. Shocked, I looked back, checking his work. How had I overlooked that he had barely even moved his shovel? Had I really been so focused on Feliciano that I had forgotten to push the others to save themselves? My stomach clenched sickly, but I shook it off. The elderly were always selected first. It had nothing to do with my diligence.

The General turned to leave, the old prisoner trailing behind, but he seemed to think better of it, freezing and turning to point at both the Italian brothers. "How old are you?" he asked, his voice devoid of any and all emotion.

Both trembled under his murderous gaze, unable to answer through their terror.

"I believe they are eighteen, sir!" I answered for them, standing tall and still.

"And you selected these twins, Sergeant Beilschmidt?"

Realizing quickly what he was getting at, I answered, "Yes, General."

He approached me, his eyes nearly black as he glared at me. "You are aware of our twin policy. Have you purposely ignored the request of Dr. Mengele? Did you forget that you are to bring them to him at the selection?"

I was at a loss for words. My blunder was not one that was commonly made at Auschwitz and was certainly not one the usual me would have ever made. I had been so caught up in their survival that I had again ignored something crucial. It was inexcusable and yet I knew I had to continue to defend them. There was only one thing left I could say to defend the Vargas twins from the horrors of experimentation that awaited them. And it meant lying to my General's face, a crime that could end my own life if ever discovered.

"No, sir. They are not twins. They are just brothers." I met his eyes head on, knowing he would read my falsity like a book if I were to look away.

General Schmitt was silent, weighing my words in his mind to find the truth behind them. "Just brothers, though they look so similar? What about their ages? They are both eighteen?"

His persistence was taking a toll on me. "They are at this moment. The dark haired one is the eldest. He is very near to nineteen, sir."

He eyed the boys again, this time seeming more amused than anything. "Shame. They would have done well to be on Dr. Mengele's list. Perhaps they could have even survived. With their weakness, they won't make it through winter." Lowering his voice and placing a hand on my shoulder, he leaned in and whispered, "Good luck keeping your pets alive, Ludwig. No matter where they scurry, death will await them. You as well, if you keep persisting. I will let you have them this time, if only for their good health. But will I let them go next selection? We will see." He grinned maniacally, spinning and moving to the next soldier's block of prisoners.

I swallowed, struggling to keep calm as I looked at the shallow, lifeless faces staring at me. "Back to work!" I snarled irritably, cocking my gun for emphasis. "You will not have time to rest until you are relieved from duty!"

An icy night had closed in on the camp, casting a cold breeze over the entirety of the field. Winter was approaching swiftly, that much was clear, and with it would come freezing weather, raging disease, and piles of snow that would annihilate a good majority of the already weakened prisoners. I knew half the men I saw before me now would be gone within the next few months. A flash of Feliciano's frozen solid, pale white corpse invaded my mind before I could stop it, bringing with it a heavy feeling of dread and emptiness that I could not fight.

"Ve~, Mr. German, sir?" piped a small, yet energetic voice, waking me from my nightmare.

I looked up to find that same Feliciano still digging slowly, but looking at me with a fresh smile across his tear-stained face.

"Do not call me that!" I snapped, causing him to cringe away. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I continued, "You will call me Sergeant Beilschmidt, not Mr. German. Now what is it that you want?"

He looked down at his feet, before glancing up at me again with a, "_Grazie_! You saved me and my _fratello _from the scary guy! That makes me happy!"

I stared at him a moment, failing to understand the sheer madness going on inside his miniscule brain. The childish innocence was back in his demeanor and he was once again oblivious. Had he already forgotten that I was the one who had given him the bruise that was now crawling across his arm like spreading poison? Had he put it in the back of his mind that I had pointed my gun at his side, hand on the trigger, threatening him? Could any one person be just that willing to forgive and forget? I shook myself. Of course not. This was simply his own consciousness, finding a way to cope with the unlivable conditions his body had been placed under. It was a trick of his own mind.

Fighting my confusion, I had no answer for him but to nod and turn away. What did he expect me to say to something so blindly idiotic? "Just…continue your work," I ordered quietly.

"Yes, sir!" he replied, chipper despite the filth that now covered him from head to toe.

The hours rolled by slowly, leaving the prisoners slowing with exhaustion as they toiled in the frigid early morning air, their arms quivering from overextension and matted hair dripping with muck. I knew the end of my shift had to be coming, which meant they would receive a few hours of rest, but I did not want to leave. The majority of the SS officers were not as sparing as I was. They would stand outside the block with machine guns, just waiting for one of the captives to slip up and try to escape...they would shoot them on the spot. It was not hard to imagine Feliciano searching for the restroom, only to get a bullet through the head. There was nothing I could do but be relieved of duty and rest in the soldier's barracks, under the General's orders. I had lost so many of my block that same way.

As the sun surfaced over the horizon, I felt powerless while I ordered them to stop work and escorted them back to block 7.

"You will have two hours to rest!" I informed them, watching them crawl into their beds and collapse, thoroughly exhausted. "Then you will be put back to work!"

I heard some muffled groans and protests, but the majority of them were already used to the lack of sleeping time and remained quiet, quickly shutting their eyes to catch every minute they could. As ordered, I patrolled through the block twice just to be sure every one of my prisoners was accounted for. Most had already slipped off into a restless sleep, shivering and murmuring through their horrid dreams. However, at the end of the room, I felt something brush my arm as I walked by. Startled, I spun to find Feliciano, his amber irises trained on me, a nervous smile on his dirt-smeared face. His brother snored obnoxiously beside him, flailing and cursing at something unknown.

He was trembling, his arm extended forward and holding onto my uniform with a solid grasp. I could tell that he was succumbing to the conditions already, and though his soft grin still held true, I knew if I didn't do something, it wouldn't be long until he died. He was weak, with a gentle, innocent spirit. Someone like him didn't belong here, regardless of religion.

With difficulty, I brushed off his grasp and tried to continue making my rounds.

His voice rose through the room, following after me. "I just wanted to say I'm glad you're here, ve~," he said through a yawn, "to protect me and Lovi! I'm gonna pray to God and thank him!"

I froze in my spot, turning to look at him again in astonishment. Already, within two seconds, he had dozed off, cuddling into his _br__ü__der _for warmth. His eyes were closed, his mouth curving into a slight smile, and he looked, despite his rugged appearance, peaceful.

The words he had spoken echoed uncontrollably through my head as I exited the block and made my way to the barracks, the honesty behind them haunting me. I doubted I would ever be able to forget the way he had sounded when he'd said it…No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about it.

I entered the main lobby of the barracks, where several of my fellow officers were gathered in plush leather chairs by the fireplace, drinking beer and making crude jokes, their form of relaxation from the hard work of the day. A few of them greeted me, but otherwise ignored my existence, which suited me just fine for this moment. However, I knew it was unlikely that I would be able to actually make it to my room without being called over for ridicule or a drink. Just as I thought, the moment I stepped through the threshold to the corridor that held the sleeping chambers, someone hollered my name.

I recognized it immediately as the man I had grabbed by the shirt before, the one who had cursed at me. Not in the mood for the game I was sure he was concocting, I considered pretending I had not heard him, before turning to face him. No real man ran away from a fight, and I would not have him thinking I was afraid.

"_Ja_, what is it you want?" I asked, sighing.

"Why don't you sit down with us for a drink, Ludwig? Why are you scurrying to your room like a pansy?" His voice was taunting, daring me to walk away from him now. "Or have you forgotten who your friends are? I saw you eyeing that pathetic Italian like he was important to you. Maybe you would rather join the Jews than kill them!" He laughed, and was joined by the others quickly.

To them, such a prospect was absurd. An impossibility.

Another man chuckled, "Well, he was pretty cute, eh, Beilschmidt? Why don't you just fuck him already? Give him a little 'pleasure' before you blow his brains out across the concrete!"

This sent the other men into hysterics again. I clenched my teeth at their sheer idiocy, their childishness. Auschwitz was just their playground, the prisoners their toys. Not a single one of them saw these people as human beings, despite the fact that they had the same faces, the same capacity to feel, the same laughter, tears, hopes, dreams, wishes. They had since dehumanized anyone who did not belong to the perfect Aryan race Hitler had meticulously created. Every one of them had fallen victim to his brainwashing.

"What, nothing to say?" said the first man, wiping his eyes of the tears that had blossomed there. "Considering it? You a_re_ a sick bastard!" He said it as if it were some kind of praise.

I stood in burning silence, furiously clenching my hands into fists.

"Relax and have a beer," someone said, handing me a cold glass, filled to the brim with golden liquid. "He's just kidding, Ludwig."

Feeling like there was no other choice, I took the beer and swallowed it quickly, barely tasting it in my hurry to leave the room. It calmed my rage at the others' stupidity slightly, and I almost cracked a smile at some of the jokes I heard, but even alcohol could not quell the distress I felt leaving my block to another SS officer or wipe my mind of Feliciano's last comment to me.

I made my way to my room after awhile, deciding some rest would do my mind good, and dropped onto the bed heavily, bringing my hands to cover my face. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would come…but I knew that it would not. In the darkness of my cabin, with only a sliver of sunshine peeking through the window, I pondered what Feliciano had said to me, over and over.

_I'm going to pray to God and thank him!_

Pray to God and thank him for what? Thank him for the horrible violence he had been put through by me? What exactly would praying do for his situation now? Why was he thankful to be suffering so horribly?

It made absolutely no sense. Still, I couldn't stop myself from bringing my own hands together and bowing my head, wondering if there really was a higher power listening to what I said. Awkwardly, I began to pray quietly.

"Dear God, I have a request I wish for you to receive…if that is okay. I doubt you will answer it and would not blame you if you didn't, but it is important that you hear it. I have done horrible things to innocent people all under orders so as to selfishly save my own life. That was once my only desire in this world; to make it through this world war alive. But now, that no longer matters. I would like to ask you to save Feliciano's life instead. Please protect him from death as long as he remains at Auschwitz. Such childish innocence is hard to come by…he could bring people happiness wherever he goes. Something that I could never accomplish. The world needs Feliciano…so please, do not let him die. Uh, also, if you could save his brother, too? He will need someone to keep him company after he leaves here. He will probably get lonely with no one…okay, so that is all. Thank you for listening."

I stared up into the ringing, silent darkness, feeling absolutely absurd.


	3. A Dead Man's Accusations

**Hello! :) So, i'm back from Europe and very tired, but i really wanted to get another chapter out because i'm having a lot of fun writing this story! Thus, another chapter for you to read! Sorry if it sounds like a jetlagged weirdo wrote it...please enjoy, despite that~:D**

_The snow fell softly, layering the ground in a downy white covering of beauty. Despite the harsh cold, the scene of white-capped trees and buildings brought an atmosphere of peace to the camp. In the distance, I could still hear the screams of pain and death, but, taken by the stunning scenery and warmth that now enveloped me, I did not move to do anything about it. Surely someone else would move to their assistance. Besides, I was preoccupied by the smiling ghost before me, dancing around as the flakes caught in his hair and clothes. He held a flawless face, with skin as smooth and white as porcelain and two eyes of pure amber…Turning, he thrust his hand forward, beckoning me to come over to where he stood. I took a slow step forward, hesitating a moment. Were there other officers nearby? I checked quickly, but found that I was now encased in a thick cloud of snowy fog. I couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction. They wouldn't see me. Swallowing my doubt, I held my own hand out to him, shuddering when he took it in his icy cold fingers and pulled me towards him._

_I opened my mouth to voice my disconcertion and was quickly silenced by a shake of his head, his smile widening as he tried to get me to dance with him. Awkwardly, I looked around again, not wanting to meet his eyes to tell him no. To tell him that not only was this concentration camp not the place for such an activity, I also did not dance. Yet he did not seem to care about anything except for the moment, his laughter echoing through the quiet air like a child's. I couldn't look at the joy of his expression without my heart throbbing in my chest. Absently, I wondered what was wrong with me to have softened over such a pathetic being, such a thoughtless, irresponsible man who needed others to look after him. But the thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the current moment. He was gazing up at me with eyes full of ecstasy, his face flushed rosy pink from the cold…I reached out uncertainly, unable to control the urge to brush a hand across his cheek. However, just as I moved to do it, a gunshot pierced the air and then he was gone, disappeared into nothingness, only a pool of bright red blood at my feet to prove that he had ever been there to begin with…_

My eyes shot open, pulse racing with adrenaline, just as my alarm sounded beside me. Sitting up in the bed, I brought a shaking hand to my forehead in distress and tried to calm my irrationality. It had been a dream. A simple dream and nothing more. Breathing deeply, I stood and opened the curtains to my window, the muted fall sunlight greeting me as it did every morning. The leaves of the trees had already begun changing, the vivid golds, reds, and browns signaling the end of another summer spent at war and the beginning of another winter spent at Auschwitz a murderer. I glared dismally at the cloudless blue sky as I pulled on my uniform, knowing that too soon it would become a natural source of misery for everyone.

Fully dressed, I yanked on my gloves and started outside to my block, passing a slew of other officers unconscious on the couches they had been drinking at last night. Any other day, I would have stopped to wake them so that the General did not punish us all, but I was in too much of a hurry to give their slovenly habits a second thought. The faster I relieved the other officer from his post, the faster I could get down to protecting Feliciano from this wretched place. It worried me to be away from him from even a second more than was necessary.

Quickly, I hurried over to block 7 and threw open the door, expecting the prisoners to be sleeping in the bunks like the schedule had said. Instead, I was met with an empty room, save for the rats scurrying across the floor. My heart skipped a beat. I was too late. It wasn't so odd for an officer to get bored of the more unskilled laborers and decide to gas the whole lot of them, thinking them a useless nuisance. Clenching my teeth hard, I calmly shut the door again and headed back to the barracks to wake the others for their duties. Perhaps I had read the schedule incorrectly and my prisoners were elsewhere. Panicking would do neither me nor Feliciano any good, especially if he was already gone.

The very prospect of the world losing such a good person made me sick.

Moving fast, I re-entered the building I had left this morning and slammed the door loudly, rattling the wall. Seeing that this did nothing to budge the snoring men, I stormed over to look over my assignment once more before I attempted to get them on their feet. To my dismay, it read just as I had thought it did. The sick feeling deepened, images of familiar blood pooling at my feet and angelic corpses flooding my mind without restraint. My dream had been more than just my imagination after all. He was really dead.

Numbly, I made my way over to the others and shook them awake impatiently, feeling as if I were stuck in an endless dream. I had experienced these emotions only once before, when my mother had been shot and killed by the Nazis outside of our home. Her blood had spilt across the pavement like a morbid painting as I'd watched with horror. Yet despite my young age, I had not shed a single tear. Perhaps it had been my strength, or my pure German blood and favorable coloring, but the Nazi officers that had taken our mother's life had then adopted and raised me, while Gilbert had been forced to hide in the basement.

The newly awakened men grumbled as they went to get ready for the day, shoving past me roughly until again I was the only one left. Alone in the room, I felt the anger slip away from my expression, a wave of sadness breaking through the apathy I had put up. Leaning against the wall, I dropped my head into my hands for a moment, wondering why I had ever trusted God to keep him safe when I knew such a force could never exist. I hadn't even been allowed to know Feliciano for more than a day, and yet the emptiness he left in his wake was something I had never imagined I would ever have to bear.

Standing straight again, I decided to find the officer that had been in charge of my block last night and relieve him of his duties. The thought of looking Feliciano's murderer in the eyes had me trembling with rage, fists clenched at my sides, but work always came first. Emotion was not something useful to an SS officer. With a sigh, I headed back out into the day, searching everywhere I could for him and finding him absolutely nowhere. Frustrated and drained, I found myself wishing more than anything that I could just escape this damn camp and run to some other country with Gilbert, where death wasn't a constant threat.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the shot of a gun sounding reverberated through the morning, shaking my vision with its proximity. Alarmed and following a hunch, I bolted towards the scene as fast as my legs would take me, more frantic now than before. Slowing, I found the grass in front of block 7 was already soaked thoroughly with a man's blood, trickling from his bone thin white body in a steady flow. It wasn't Feliciano; in fact, it was one of the more experienced prisoners, a Jewish boy who had been in the camp for almost a year and a half. He wasn't one of the older men, only slightly younger than me. Despite his horrible death, his blue lips were curved into a smile on his face, as if he were finally at peace.

I approached the other Sergeant, Sergeant Werner, slowly. "I have come to take my shift," I said quietly, feeling an intense anger burning in me. "Why did you not follow the schedule?"

He turned, his dark eyes skimming over me lazily. "We were running behind thanks to a few of these fucking Jews not working fast enough. I thought I should teach the slow ones a lesson they would never forget. So I put bullets through their heads."

I tensed, remembering how slowly Feliciano worked. "How many?" I demanded, opening the door to the block and peering in at the remainder anxiously.

Yawning, Werner said, "Only this one." He kicked the dead boy before him for emphasis. "And one other younger one."

"Who?" I asked, trying to calm my raging fear. "What did he look like?"

Werner gave me a peculiar look, raising an eyebrow. "Are you looking for someone special? I don't know who. Just another starved, filthy Jew like they all are." A manic grin crossed his face. "He screamed pretty good, too. He was a wild one, so I put him down."

Horrified, I darted back into the block and investigated every bunk tensely, noting the boy outside's death. When I didn't come across another missing person by the time I reached the end where Feliciano and his brother slept, I could nearly taste the panic in my throat. Summoning up my courage, I looked in to find them both curled together for warmth as they always were, sleeping soundly. They were even dirtier than they had been before, their skin hardly visible under the layer of muck that coated them.

I let the breath I had been holding out, relief flooding through me. They were safe, if only for now.

Making another round to find the other death, I realized the boy outside's bunkmate was also missing. In my frenzy, I hadn't even realized that the prisoners were two to a bunk, and had completely overlooked that this one was entirely empty. It was surprising, nonetheless, that they had been the ones to die. They had both been very hard workers under my watch. Perhaps it had just been too much for them and they had crumbled under the conditions. No matter what the cause, their deaths meant that my block would now be open for even more prisoners to occupy and I would have to push the bunk limit up by at least another person. Which meant that diseases would start right in time for the winter season. I could attempt to save Feliciano from the other Nazis as much as I wanted, but if he caught a disease, it would be over for him.

Padding over to him quietly, I studied the color of his cheeks in the spots dirt had not touched. He was still pink, not yet the deathly pale that spelled the end in a selection, I noted. Gently, I prodded him in the side to test his weight, to see if I could feel any bones. Surprising me, he gave a giggle as my fingers touched him, wriggling without opening his eyes. I pulled away nervously, peering down at him cautiously. What was he laughing at? I set my jaw and tried to test him again.

He giggled and squirmed once more, speaking sleepily. "_Ve~_, that tickles…"

My face flushed involuntarily at his expression and for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from thinking the word "cute." I brushed the adjective away hurriedly, embarrassed that it had even come into my mind, and tried one last time to judge his weight without tickling him. This time, however, the moment my hand came in contact with him, his eyes flew open and he rolled away with a giggle. Was he…playing with me right now? I gave a grunt of frustration. What kind of eighteen year old man was ticklish anyway?

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back over to me, shocked at how small he was already. My hand fit dangerously easily over his wrist, the bones fine and breakable. The smile flitted from his face as I dragged him down from the bunk, his eyes widening in fear as he looked up at me, and placed him in front of me. It would be even better if I could see as well as feel his whole weight instead of just one section of his ribs.

He gave a whimper. "Please, don't shoot me!" he pleaded, shaking. "It was just so tickly, I didn't mean to laugh or smile or have fun or anything! I'm sorry!"

It was like taking a wild animal from a trap. They would never realize you were trying to help them and get themselves all stressed out for nothing, until they were set free. Sighing, I felt his torso quickly, which seemed to calm him down a bit, strangely enough. Relieved, I found that he was still sufficiently healthy for now, but it had only been a day. What would he feel like tomorrow? Next week? In a month? What would I do when he was no longer healthy? There was nothing I could do except for watch him waste away and continue to give him checkups.

"_Ve~_…Mr. Beilschmidt, sir? What's going on?" he asked, waking me up from my daze and making me realize I had never let him go.

Face reddening again, I pulled my hands off of him and cleared my throat, unable to look him in the eyes. "Uh…return to your bunk," I ordered stiffly, turning away from him. "You will not have much sleeping time today."

I heard him shuffle back onto the bunk as he was told, starting to hum now that he knew he wasn't going to be shot. I imagined him curling up with his brother, his eyes closing as he drifted off into sleep, his cheerful voice trailing off. When I was sure he was asleep, I turned back to look one more time and felt a pang of urgent desire to protect him go through me. He needed my help to get through this, even if he was still afraid of me.

Unwillingly, I dragged myself away from Feliciano and out the door to the block, standing out front to wait for the newcomers. Sergeant Werner had since left, probably gone to go drink himself to sleep like the rest of the lowlifes running this institution, but the body of the dead boy remained unmoved. His dead eyes, unclosed, were set straight at me with an accusatory stare that had me averting my gaze. I hadn't killed him, and yet it was still my fault. I had taken part in this. I had taken lives. It was just as much my fault as it was his murderer's.

Taking a deep breath, I shook the guilt away and gave the corpse's head a gentle kick so that I would not have to see. It was hard enough to do this job without a dead man's accusations to undo my resolve. I would have to have someone remove this body quickly. I looked into the distance, where I could see that ever constant plume of smoke rising over the buildings, the fire fed with new, fresh fuel. It grew with every soul it consumed, a literal pit of hell.

As I stared with remorse, a young soldier rounded the corner of a building, bringing with him a good twenty new faces at gunpoint. Their bodies were already dirty, bruises and cuts coating their arms as if they had recently been beaten. They were exhausted, miserable...but I could not afford to be anyone's friend. Gruffly, I stood straight and motioned them forward, bringing out my own gun to shove them into the block. Two by two, they hurried in, only to find that there was no room for them anywhere. Trailing in the back, a young boy who could not have been older than nine or ten looked up at me with pleading eyes.

"Mister," he said, speaking perfect German. "There is no room."

Who had even let such a young child pass through the gates alive? I had never dealt with a child before and his words threw off my balance. "You will sleep four to a bunk!" I ordered, trying to ignore him as if he weren't there. "Meals will be served in the mornings and evenings. The rest of the time you are expected to work until you are given time to rest!"

My shouting made the boy flinch and awoke the rest of the block, who were now staring at the newcomers and trying to quickly find places for them to stay. Feliciano peeked out as well, his eyes lighting up when he saw the little boy who was now cowering fearfully at my feet.

"_Bambino_!" he said gently, getting down from the bed and approaching the terrified child. "You can stay with me, _ve~_!"

He spoke the words in English, knowing the boy would not understand Italian, but he seemed just as confused as if Feliciano had used his native tongue. It was obvious that the kid was a German Jew and had not yet advanced far enough in his English studies to understand what was being said. I felt the urge to translate for him arise, but I refrained. If the Jews knew that I was trying to help, they would no longer feel the fear in their hearts that kept their guard up constantly.

Instead, I grabbed him by the wrist with enough force to make him cry out and dragged him over to Feliciano, dropping him before the Italian with feigned malice. "You will sleep in this bunk!" I pointed to where Feliciano's brother lay, still snoring, and tried to avoid Feliciano's eyes. "Move!"

He scurried over to the bunk and climbed up, hiding his face behind his hands as he tried to stifle the sobs that were starting to rack his tiny body. Satisfied now that everyone had a place to stay, I turned away to find that Feliciano was in fact staring up at me as I had hoped he wouldn't. His eyes were troubled, darting from me to the crying boy and back quickly, the careless smile now replaced with a concerned frown. My thoughts had proven true; Feliciano liked children.

Through his own quivering and terror, he was looking me straight in the eye. "Please don't hurt him, Mr. Beilshcmidt, sir! He's just a _bambino_!"

There was no way I could refuse anything he asked. Defeated, I sighed and looked away, flustered. "Ludwig," I grumbled quietly. "You may call me Ludwig. And…I will do my best."

I could only hope that nobody had heard me.


	4. Murder Machine

**Hi everyone :) Not much to say, just thanks to those of you who have reviewed for me and said all those nice things! It really inspires me to keep writing when i know someone cares! Anyway, enough cheese, please enjoy another chapter~**

The first snowstorm came right with the beginning of the holidays. The temperature had since dropped below the normal chilly fall mornings, decreasing to sharp, icy wind gusts that made it hard to breathe. It seemed that already, this winter was going to be a harsh one. Yet despite the cold, the prisoners pushed through every day, always praying for their freedom as they toiled and fought against the iron grip of nature. However, struggle as they would, the passing hours brought only more death as worn down souls succumbed.

Christmas was only days away. I had been informed that, because I was believed to have no living relatives to go home to, I would be remaining at Auschwitz for the entirety of the season. Gilbert would be spending another Christmas alone, locked up in the basement and I, locked up here. It was almost as if I were being condemned myself, though I had such high status as an officer. Sometimes I felt as if I could empathize with those who were kept here, penned like animals.

I shifted in my seat by the fireplace, unnerved by the howling of the wind as it hit the building. The snow had piled to nearly a foot within a matter of hours and, now that it was night, the temperature was well below zero. My block was out there somewhere, suffering the elements in nothing more than the thin, useless jackets I had supplied for them. Dysentery was ramped among the camp now, as well as tuberculosis and many other fatal diseases that kept the doctor's office full of soldiers.

It couldn't have been any worse for Feliciano.

I had noticed weeks ago that he was losing weight rapidly, the small amount of food supplied to him burned off before the nutrients could even reach his body. Every day, I continued to check him when I thought no one else was watching, continued to watch him to be sure he was still fighting. But despite this knowledge, there was absolutely nothing I could do for him but slip him an extra piece of bread every once in awhile. I could see the thanks in his eyes as he split the slice into threes, handing a piece to both his brother and the little boy before finishing whatever was left quickly.

Sighing, I dropped my head onto my fisted hands. I would never understand the feelings he could evoke in me. They were nonsensical. He made me want to take him and run far away from here, just so that his smile would never be lost. He made me want to turn my back on the rules, turn my back on the other Nazis, just so I could spend a little more time with him. He made me want _him. _It was dangerous and impossible to even consider taking him to safety. Even if we managed to escape, we would be trailed, killed even, if we were ever found. His chances of surviving here were worse, but…

"Ludwig!"

My head jerked up at the voice. It was the General, looming over me with a beer in one fist and a smug grin across his lips. I stood, saluting him, wondering to myself how long he had been here before I'd noticed.

"Lost in thought? You've barely touched your beer," he noted, nodding his head in the direction of my undisturbed glass. "This is your time off. You should enjoy it!"

"Yes, sir," I said habitually, knowing full well I would not be able to relax and enjoy when I could not see Feliciano.

He seemed to pick up on this, his eyes studying me closely, suspiciously. "Is there a problem, Beilschmidt?"

What could I say that would not get me killed? "No, sir!"

"I've heard that you refuse to kill anyone in your block, no matter how slow they are at work. Is that the truth? Must I remind you that the more vermin we extract from this world, the closer we become to winning? Have you grown soft watching them suffer?" He placed his glass on the bar, face reddening with rage. "I will not have it! Tomorrow, you will kill one of them, or I will have the whole block gassed!"

I tried furtively to wipe the horror off my face before it registered in his mind, but he saw it and grinned again, even more smug than before."Which one shall I have you kill? It's too obvious there's a reason that that look crossed your face just now. Could it be that you have a soft spot for one of your prisoners?"

My face was sufficiently blank, but I could do nothing to halt the pounding of my heart. Could he hear the way it leapt?

"Perhaps… that little redheaded Italian boy you lied for before?" I could see from the glimmer in his eye that he knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "He would make this a memorable lesson for you, wouldn't he? Such a cute kid and so innocent for his age. What's his name…Feliciano? But maybe it would be better to have you kill the brother instead! Or that little ten- year- old child! That way you would have to live with Feliciano's resentment. That would definitely wake you up from your delusions."

I had never felt so caged. I could do nothing but watch him decide whose life would end by my hands. A murder machine that hadn't been doing his job. That was all I was to this man. If I didn't end one life, I would end them all.

"The youngest child. I want him dead. He's as useless as they come," the General decided. "We're wasting money on pathetic children. Kill him by the end of your shift tomorrow or I will take the matter of your block into my own hands and end them all. Now, at ease."

I saluted him once more as he walked away to chat with the other soldiers. The moment he was gone, I collapsed back onto my chair, trying to contain the nauseating emotions racing through me. I had never imagined I would be ordered to murder a child. He hadn't selected Feliciano, which had brought me the most miniscule of relief, but he had instead chosen someone Feliciano had become very attached to over the course of a month. He was going to see me as a monster again…At first I had thought it would be better for him to fear me, to cringe every time I neared him. But as the time had passed, I'd realized his resentment would disturb me. I didn't want him to hate me.

I was sure he'd even grown to like me now that he'd noticed I was taking care of him. Killing this boy would take all the work I'd done and shred it to pieces. I'd tried my best, yet the General had ended the desired result with one simple order. Things would go back to how they had been. I would go back to being the feared, evil monster the Jews viewed me as. Feliciano would no longer look at me with gentleness in his eyes. I didn't know if I would be able to take the emptiness.

Distraught, I downed my beer hurriedly before heading back to my room and lying down, closing my eyes to the misery the world had handed me. Still, behind my eyelids, I could see Feliciano crying out in anguish for the boy I had murdered, his blood still dripping from my hands.

I slept dreamlessly that night, waking up more exhausted than I'd ever been before. Today, I would end the life of a child on Christmas Eve. It didn't matter that he didn't celebrate the holiday, that he was Jewish. I could only hope that God would welcome him into Heaven with open arms. I dressed much more slowly than usual, in no hurry to see the suffering across the faces of people who had already been through hell and back. I could already feel their hatred burning a hole in my heart.

Fully dressed, I trudged through the building to the front door, heading out into the snow. The sky was clear and blue today, the sun shining across the white surface with blinding sparkles, but yesterday's storm had done its damage. The drifts were more than three feet deep, a difficult obstacle for even me to get through easily. I was grateful for the roadblock, despite my cursing. Every second that passed was another second of that boy's life saved. He didn't know death would be coming so soon. A choking feeling came over me as block 7 came into sight, Werner standing outside looking bored as he waited to trade places with me.

"Finally," he said, rolling his eyes. "What took you so long? It's damn cold out here."

I couldn't even bring myself to speak to him, afraid I would lose my composure. Pushing past him, I entered the block and counted the faces, old and new. It seemed that everyone had survived the night this time, though they looked hollow and empty, as if they were already corpses waiting for disposal. I shook away the thought, my eyes lingering on Feliciano who had popped up the moment I had entered, a smile that brought immeasurable guilt lighting his face.

"Ludwig, _ve~!_" he chirped, much to my dismay.

I tried to ignore him. "Everybody up!" I yelled, glad that my voice came out steady. "You will have breakfast now!"

They all scrambled up willingly, more interested in food than sleep at this point. Despite their ragged states, they seemed to always have the strength to move when breakfast was involved. Lined up, I opened the door and they all filed out while I pointed my gun at them. By now, they had learned that I was unlikely to actually use the machine I held in my hands, so not a single one of them paid a bit of attention when I cocked it, swallowing nervously. It was better to end him quickly. The earlier, the faster, the better. It would be better if he didn't see it coming. Painless, even.

From the back of the line, I aimed my gun directly at the little boy's head.

I could feel my finger tremble on the trigger, pushing it back ever so slightly…Just as I summoned the courage and pressed down, Feliciano turned, his easy smile turned to horror in a split second as the little boy's blood splattered across the ground, his face, the body collapsing.

A second of silence, the duration of a single heartbeat, passed. Then he started sobbing, falling down next to the dead boy into the blood surrounding him, uncaring that he was being covered in it. He clutched at the child's lifeless hands, agony burning in the amber of his irises as he wailed for the loss of this soul.

It was worse than I ever could have imagined.

He turned his tearful eyes on me, unable to even speak a coherent word through the sobs that wracked his body. My gun fell to the ground at my feet, my own mind wondering what kind of sin I'd just committed. What part of my mind had allowed me to press that trigger and end one of the lives I'd been trying to protect. It could have only been the part that had wanted to protect Feliciano from the gas chamber. To save him, I would even kill a child.

In those eyes, I could read emotions like a simple book; betrayal, distrust, disbelief, fear. Everything I had worked so hard to remove from his expression had returned. I doubted I would ever be able to rid him of his hatred of me again. Desperately, I tried to convey to him with my own eyes why I'd had to do it, that it hadn't been my choice, that I would have never killed a child by my own will. But he wasn't listening to my feeble excuses. He was mourning the life I'd taken.

Knowing I would never be able to get through to him, I picked my gun off the ground and placed it over my shoulder by the strap, heading his direction. Tragedy did not excuse diligence, and my block needed to get to breakfast before they were no longer permitted to have any at all. Even if I was sinking in sadness alongside Feliciano, life had to move on.

"Get back in line!" I loomed over the trembling Italian darkly, hating myself.

He stood on quivering legs, his whole body smothered with bloody snow, and tried to get back to the line, tripping several times on the way. I watched, my heart burning with the desire to pick him up every time he fell. His face was paler than ever, tear-stained and bloody as he reached his brother and threw his arms around the other man, crying into his shoulder. The longing to be the one to comfort him arose ridiculously, though I was the one who had broken his heart in the first place. I was being uncharacteristically irrational.

I was a Nazi. An SS officer. This was my job.

Even telling myself that over and over did nothing to sate my internal suffering as I herded my block into the dining hall. I sat down next to my co-workers, barely hearing them as they attempted to converse with me, only hearing the sound of my own accusatory thoughts pulsing through my mind. _You killed him. It was your fault. You could have saved the boy somehow, could have tried, but you only cared about saving Feliciano. Now he hates you. Was it worth it? You saw his eyes; he'll never forgive you. He'll never forgive you…_

Panicked, my eyes flitted over to where Feliciano sat, staring emptily down at his untouched meal. He looked so ill, so skinny, so pale, so completely blank…I had thought death would be the only thing to steal that smile from this world, but I had done the same with one thoughtless decision. I doubted he would ever grin again, much less at me.

"_Nein,"_ I whispered, hurt swelling in my chest.

"Ah, Ludwig," General Schmitt chuckled from across the table. "It appears you have done as you were ordered and disposed of the child. Good work."

He was the last person I wanted to associate with, but I forced myself to look at him and salute as an underling should. "Yes, sir," I answered, unable to remove the hopelessness from my tone.

This seemed to please him. "Very good. I hope you've learned your lesson from this experience and have decided to rejoin the Nazis. We wouldn't want to have to condemn you as a traitor, Sergeant."

"No, sir. I have learned my lesson," I said, just to please him.

"Wonderful news," he purred and immediately, I knew he was planning something else. "Today is going to be a camp wide selection. I hope your block is strong enough."

The burning fear in my heart was rekindled, his words sinking in one by one. It was obvious from the way he'd said the last words that he already knew who he would be killing today. And I had a feeling it would be the majority of my block. He had only made me kill the child to give me false security, to make a show and undo the trust Feliciano had in me. He had planned on killing Feliciano all along.

A moment of unbridled fury blinded me for being tricked by this man. My hands curled tightly into fists that yearned to make contact with the General's face, but I knew violence would solve nothing. In fact, it could only make the situation worse. Slowly, I calmed myself back down and stood, leaving the building and storming out into the snow. Outside, I could see my breath in front of me as I gasped for air through my rage, punching the side of the dining hall with all the power I had.

There was no choice. I had to save Feliciano from dying, no matter what it cost me. I had to sneak him out of here. If I could just find a way to keep him alive through the selection, I would send him out under the cover of the night and tell him to run…run until he was so far away from Auschwitz they would never find him. But would he even make it after I let him go? He was so weak already, I doubted he could run very far without help. He would need me to come with him, to make sure he made all the right decisions…

There was only one way I could possibly spare Feliciano in this selection; bribery. If there was anything the General loved more than watching the prisoners die, it was money. Perhaps I had something of worth to him. I dug through my pockets, coming up with nothing he would find useful. Frustrated, I brushed a hand through my hair, feeling the cold, hard presence of the ring I held on my finger as it made contact with my head…Inhaling sharply, I yanked off my glove and removed the solid gold ring hurriedly, studying it.

It had been a last gift from my mother, the only memoir of a father who had died at war, and it held priceless jewels in it, as well as irreplaceable memories. This ring had been with my parents through everything, a symbol of their love. I had always treasured it as something more valuable than life since the day my mother had entrusted it to me and yet…it was all I had left. My only hope for saving Feliciano.

Without another thought, I re-entered the hall and sat down, determined.

The General, seeing my expression, raised an eyebrow. "Welcome back, Sergeant Beilschmidt."

"I have a request to make," I said, keeping my voice steady and serious. "I would like to talk to you outside."

After a moment of consideration, he shrugged. "As you wish," he said, following me outside. "What is this about?"

I opened my palm with the ring in it to him, watching as his eyes sparked with interest at its pure gold shine. "I will give this to you. But I want something in return."

"Ah." He chuckled, seeing what I was getting at. "So you're trying to bribe me in order to save him? You realize I could demote or even fire you for this?"

I gave a short nod. "So will you accept it and spare Feliciano or will you not?"

General Schmitt snorted, taking the ring from my palm and investigating it with a keen eye. "It seems real enough. A family ring, perhaps? You'd be willing to throw away something so precious for some worthless Papist? You feel that strongly for him, do you?"

I clenched my teeth. "Will you spare him or not?" I repeated, not liking how he was not agreeing.

"I will, for your sake. He will die anyways, without my selection. He's too weak to be here. You've seen that with your own eyes. Soon enough, I won't have to do a thing. Nature will take its course and end him itself." He pocketed the ring, patting my shoulder. "Do yourself a favor and forget getting attached. Even if he runs, he can't make it in time. You can't outrun death."

As he walked away, I swore under my breath. It was obvious he knew I was going to try to save Feliciano. But outrunning death had never been the goal. All Feliciano had to do was outrun the demons who had brought him here. And I was going to be right there, running alongside him, whether he wanted me there or not.


	5. Massacre

**Hi :) So i've been going on quite a few vacations and they haven't had any internet, so it's been hard to write every day like i've wanted to...but i'm doing my best! Sorry if things aren't exactly factual, i'm adding my own touches here and there. So please enjoy this new installment and thank you for supporting me! **

They were stripped of all their clothing, their pride tossed aside like unwanted baggage. Block by block, they were lined up before the whole of the SS officer community, nothing to cover up their weakness, nothing to shield them from death. Try as they might to pinch pinkness into their lifeless faces, to hide the fact that they were starved to the bone, they would not escape the General's eagle eyes. He would find the weakest within seconds, a wolf seeking out his vulnerable prey from the herd.

Swallowing, I looked for Feliciano in the mass of prisoners, nervously clutching my gun before me. The General had commanded that we shoot into the crowd at the ones who lagged even for a moment. The other men had seemed ecstatic about the chance at a killing massacre, but my stomach had clenched the moment the words had left his mouth. It was too obvious that if he was not permitted to select Feliciano, he would have him killed by a different means. A bullet would no doubt find him as he struggled to keep up with everyone else.

"Get ready, men," the General said, throwing me a smug look. "Don't hesitate to kill a single one." With that, he yelled at the terrified prisoners to start running, and they took off for their lives.

But for some, it wasn't fast enough. Right from the beginning, blood violated the untouched snow with its stain, dyeing the white sheet scarlet.

I looked on hopelessly, scanning each body that fell quickly, before searching the crowd again for Feliciano. I found him faster than I would have liked, barely hanging onto the back edge of the group, his brother struggling just as much beside him. My gaze swung over to the General, who had already collected several prisoners for the selection. His eyes were following Feliciano with dangerous precision, an expression of sick pleasure lighting up his face.

"Ludwig," he said suddenly, turning to me with amusement. "Go fetch me that Italian boy. The older one, with the dark hair."

I understood now. He had never had any intention of breaking our deal. He had found another way to punish me for the crime I had committed against the Nazi regime.

"Yes, sir," I answered, caged once again by the General in psychological hell.

I ran into the crowd, easily passing the slower ones to catch up to Feliciano and his brother where they were. They both turned to me as I appeared, their eyes widening in fear and panic. I couldn't stand the confusion that crossed Feliciano's face as I seized his brother by the arm, couldn't believe that for the second time in one day I would be breaking his heart. I bit my lip savagely to drown out the emotion, dragging the struggling and cursing man back to where the General stood.

Immediately, Feliciano quit running, searching frantically. "_Fratello_!" he yelled, tears choking his voice, "Lovi!"

Lovi. I looked to the man whose life I had ended where he was fighting the SS officers who were trying to hold him down. I had never once heard his name before…and now, just moments before his death, he had been humanized in my mind. I had to stifle the urge to save him, too…I knew I couldn't save them all. And yet, this was Feliciano's big brother.

"What a pain in the ass," the General grunted, watching Lovi bite and claw at the Nazis like some kind of crazed beast. "If only Ludwig had let Dr. Mengele take you when I had suggested. Maybe you would have lived." He smiled gently, taking the boy's chin in his hand, burning with joy as he brought his gun to Lovi's head.

Lovi's eyes widened, filling with tears as he felt the metal against his head, heard the trigger being pulled. "Damn potato bastard," he muttered, closing his eyes in defeat. "You better save-"

He never got to finish his sentence.

Blood lay in splatters across my uniform now, his body at my feet. I couldn't help but stare at his corpse…it was my fault again. I had killed him. Feliciano would never forgive me. I hadn't been able to save him, had even brought him to his death.

The General stood, patting me on the shoulder. "Well done."

Hatred burned in my heart as I brought my eyes up to meet his. There was so much satisfaction in the way he looked at me that I felt I could no longer hold back the fists that were aching to make him sorry. I wanted to make him feel the pain he was putting these people through. Unconsciously, I brought my gun closer. I could kill him. I had the ability, the weaponry. I could end the reign of misery he had created.

"And yet there's still no way you can do it," he chuckled so quietly that I wasn't sure that I'd heard it. "Perhaps instead of focusing on trivial things, you should bring your attention to those which you can still influence." He pointed into the crowd, where Feliciano still remained stricken and unmoving.

Shivering and sobbing, clutching his bare skin, he had fallen to his knees in the crowd, frantic prisoners crushing him under their feet as they struggled to get away. Emptiness filled his eyes, blood dripping down from some head injury he had received from another person…all the fight had gone out of him. He was just waiting to die now. A nightmare scene set before me, every trace of the cheerful boy a ghost dancing away across the snow.

"Feliciano," I breathed, pushing past the other officers thoughtlessly to get to him. A tight feeling was ripping at my chest, the unfamiliar lump of tears forming in my throat. Of course I would never cry, but perhaps I could shed a tear for him… I dropped down to his height where he sat, curled up and freezing to death in the icy slush that had formed.

His eyes drifted to me for a moment, a violent quiver passing through his body, before he dropped them again. My arms longed to hold him, warm him…protect him. But that was not what I had come over to him for. I had to get him up, had to get him to run through the cold, through the blinding pain of loss.

"Stand up," I said desperately, grabbing him by the arm and trying to haul him to his feet.

The moment my glove touched his skin, it was as if he had been electrocuted. He pulled away frantically with a squeak, his eyes filling with fear and distrust as he looked at me. Out of surprise more than anything else, I released my hold on him and watched him take off the other direction. Startled, I looked down at my hands, realizing only then that I was still smothered with the blood of his dead brother.

I had messed everything up.

"Hey, Beilschmidt! Get out of the way! Do you wanna get shot?"

I got to my feet automatically, moving out of the way without any thought for where I was going. I followed the group as they continued on with the selection, but my mind was far from it now. The look on his face when I had touched him…would he always make that expression at me? Would his hatred for me continue to foster now that I had taken away everybody who mattered to him in this world? Could I ever make up for what I had done? Would this sick, hollow feeling in my heart ever leave? I wondered vaguely and rather suddenly how Gilbert was doing. What would I have done had he been killed before my eyes like our mother had?

The selection ended as night fell across the camp, the temperatures reaching impossible lows. The remaining prisoners were escorted back to their blocks, while General Schmitt brought his haul to be gassed in the chambers. My own block had been decimated by this particular run, leaving only a few of them still alive. Which meant that the next group would be arriving sometime tonight, while I was not in charge. Both Werner and I escorted the remaining few back, settling them into their bunks for the hour or so of sleep they would be awarded for surviving.

"What were you thinking, running into the group for that damn Italian kid? You could have been shot, for God's sake," Werner asked, as I made my rounds through the block, mostly so that I could make sure Feliciano was safe. "Some of the other officers keep saying you've fallen for him."

I stopped halfway, turning back to him furiously. "They are a bunch of useless, gossiping women."

He raised an eyebrow at me, but remained quiet as I turned and finished my inspection. When I reached Feliciano's bunk, my heart started to pound wildly in my chest. What expression would he have when he saw me this time? Nervously, I looked in…only to find him fast asleep, his tear-stained cheeks burning pink with the cold. He was trembling, whimpering as he dreamed. I could only imagine the gore he saw behind his lids, the misery that was making him cry even as he slept.

Unable to help myself, I brought a hand up and brushed it across his cheek softly. His heat burned through my glove, despite its thickness. I froze, ripping off the leather covering, and put my bare hand across his forehead. There was no doubt about it. He had a fever. A new fear overcame me, one I had hoped fervently that I would be allowed to avoid. People I could try to protect him from, but disease….I had to get him out of here soon. Back at my home, we had medicine for fevers that would cure him easily. If he could only make it until then…

Making a split second decision, I pulled off my jacket and laid it across his shivering, sweating body, trying to ignore the fact that it was covered in Lovi's blood.

With a sigh, I brushed some sweaty hair out of his face before turning to the door….only to see that Werner had been watching the whole thing. I felt my face heat up, but continued on as if nothing had happened at all. His eyes followed me as I shoved past him and out into the night, the cold wind hitting the bare skin of my arms with ripping force.

I looked up at the snow-heavy dark sky as I trudged back to my room. It had to be nearly midnight now…Christmas was here. And yet it brought with it none of the childish joy it once had. Now reality had sunken in, made me realize how the cruel adult world worked. Christmas would bring no end to the suffering at this camp. But perhaps it could bring an end to _his._ It would be the perfect miracle to save his life today. Maybe I could never save him from reliving the memories he had made here, but I could save him from making more.

Maybe I could bring back some of his vitality.

I knew full well that when I entered the barracks, a Christmas party would be in full swing. I was not wrong; the moment I stepped through the door, I was barraged with loud music, drunken singing, and alcohol everywhere. The warmth of the atmosphere did nothing to boost my mood, though, and I was able to fight my way wearily through the room without much effort.

When I got to my chamber, I immediately began preparing a plan. It was going to be extremely difficult to escape, and even harder to keep us both alive. I knew without me, Feliciano would be caught immediately. I had to stay alive at least until he was far enough away that he would be safe. Which meant I would need to bring my gun, despite the fact that it would weigh me down. I would also need to steal some more ammo and get around Werner's careful watch long enough to snatch Feliciano. I could not do it during my own watch…the other prisoners would want to escape as well. Despite what I wanted, I could not save them all. It was a selfish thing I was doing, but Feliciano needed me.

Determined, I looked up at the ceiling, lying back in my bed. "I will save him, with or without your help," I told God. "Give him your strength. That is all I will ask now."

Sitting up again, I removed my dog tags and placed them in a drawer, withdrawing the black cross necklace I had hidden there. I would no longer have need for anyone to know my name if my body were to be found. I did not want anyone to know that I was a Nazi soldier, deserting his post for the love of another man. There would be no trust if anyone knew. My blond hair and blue eyes were enough of a warning sign.

Sneaking out proved to be even easier than walking in had been. By the time I had planned all the way through the escape, the majority of the soldiers were either severely drunk or passed out, as usual. Checking only for General Schmitt, I moved very quickly and quietly through the room and out the door. It was nearly three in the morning now, still frigid and icy, and even I had a hard time keeping my footing. Running would be difficult in conditions like this. Perhaps the general had assumed that I would not attempt Feliciano's escape during the winter. Even I had not anticipated that I would be doing this tonight. I was vastly unprepared, despite my planning, and I was uncertain about many things. However, even if we were to freeze to death, at least I would have died trying to save him.

Wasting no time, I slipped across the ground to the ammo room. It seemed to be unguarded at the moment…but that did not mean the guards were not staying inside to keep warm. I peeked in a window. Just as I had thought, two guards sat against a wall, speaking in low voices with one another. Cursing mentally, I decided the best option was to lure them outside somehow and shoot them. Maybe not to kill, but to injure. With the wind howling as loudly as it was, I was sure nobody would be able to hear their screams.

Inhaling deeply, I took my gun and fired it into the window to get their attention. Thankfully, it hit nothing as it flew through the building and to the other side, only getting the attention of the guards as the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. They jumped alertly, their voices urgent now. One stood, taking his gun into his hands, and made his way outside just as I had hoped. As his silhouette neared me, I took my own gun and cocked it, aiming steadily for one of his legs. The bullet stayed true, slicing through and knocking him down with a scream of pain. But I couldn't let him see me yet…the other one needed to come out first.

I could see him hesitating for a moment at leaving his duty. However, the other guard yelped once again and this seemed to be his resolve. He stood at once, heading out into the night to assist his companion. I took aim; I had to get him quickly before he saw me. Again, I shot for the leg and got a direct hit. Now that they were both down, I could knock them unconscious and get what I needed. Approaching them silently, I snuck up on them from behind and knocked their heads against the ground as hard as I could. The screaming ceased abruptly as they drifted off.

A measure of guilt came as I began to take all the ammo I could hold on my person, but it quickly passed as I imagined Feliciano smiling and healthy again. It would be well worth dying for to see him become the person he had once been. For now, though, I just needed to concentrate on getting him the hell out of here. Packed and ready, I pulled the two soldiers back into the ammo room so that they would not freeze to death and headed out to find where Werner had taken our block to. The schedule had said that they would be helping to burn the bodies of those who had died that day…A flash of Feliciano dragging his dead brother's body to the oven made me feel sick to my stomach.

Pulling myself together, I headed towards the crematorium, hiding in the shadows so that no one would notice me as I walked by. It wasn't long until I found them, struggling under the weight of their dead friends as they shoved them into the ovens. Feliciano attracted my attention right away; he had a corpse by its leg and was pulling with all his might through the heavy snow, but the body was going nowhere. He tripped, falling hard onto his hands and knees with a cry. Shaking, he stood once more and pulled as hard as he could.

It was too painful to bear watching anymore.

I snuck out from the shadows, taking care to notice that Werner had turned the other direction to yell at another of the prisoners, and slid my way over to him. Without so much as a word, I grabbed him from behind and swung him up into my arms, covering his mouth as he started to scream in surprise. Just as quickly as I'd come here, we were gone, running desperately into the night with no time for even an explanation from me. I could only hope that he would hold on tight and continue to stay quiet as we made our way out of the camp.


	6. Christmas Presents

**Hello! First and foremost, thank you to everyone who has supported me through this story! I've kinda been having a difficult time getting this chapter out...i've been working on it off and on for a few days. For some reason my brain chose to fart while i was writing it...but now i'm finally done! Sorry if anything sounds stupid :D Please enjoy~!**

The gates to Feliciano's freedom lay just a few meters ahead, so close that I could hear my pulse pounding wildly in my temples as I ran. As quickly as I could, I slid into the shadows of one of the watchtowers that held the only guards left to get in my way. I had to think about how to get around them before I shot through the locks that held the gate shut… Feliciano, eyes wide with terror, fidgeted in my arms, struggling to pull my hand from where it was still clenched over his mouth. What would he do if I removed it? Would he scream? Why couldn't he just realize I was trying to save him already?

I looked down at him, my eyebrows furrowing. "Listen to me if you want to get out of here alive," I growled quietly into his ear. "We are going to escape here, but I cannot shoot my gun if you are in my arms the whole time. Do you understand?"

He nodded weakly, his fever flushed cheeks shining with new tears. Tears that I'd caused.

I tried to make my tone gentler, continuing. "You have to stay here and stay quiet until I've taken care of the guards. I will come back for you as soon as it is safe and then we will run. I am going to remove my hand now... do not scream."Holding my breath, I released my hold on him and stiffened as he latched back onto my uniform with surprising strength.

"Ludwig," he whimpered, "Are you going to kill them? Please don't kill them…please. I don't want anyone else to die."

His words were soft, barely audible to me, though I was sitting right in front of him. "There is no time to spare them," I answered sternly, unhooking his fingers from my shirt and getting to my feet.

He mirrored my movement, surprising me. He'd gone through hell and back, his face burning with fever, his body dangerously emaciated and trembling, yet he stood before me as if to block my way. In his eyes, I could see sparks of life kindling in his desperation to stop me from ending even more lives. "Please, no…stop. It's Christmas! Even bad guys don't deserve to die, especially on Christmas! Even though they've done bad things… "

His pleading was tearing through my resolve…I had to do something before he convinced me. "This is not a game, Feliciano! I have no choice! If we stay here, we will get caught and killed! Do you want to die? Do you? It's our lives or theirs!"

More tears pooled in his eyes at my raised voice, but he stood strong, his fear of me not enough to make him back down. "Please… no more. That's not who you are."

Frustration had me clenching my jaw, my hands curving into involuntary fists. Obviously if he could not see that we were only seconds from death ourselves, I would have to ignore his wishes and get on with my plan. The longer I stood here listening to Feliciano's irrationality, the less time we had to make our escape. The night could not last forever and eventually Werner was bound to realize that one of the prisoners had gone missing. He would send the alarm that would close these gates on us for good…If we did not leave before the lockdown, the whole effort would have been for nothing.

I stood straight, setting my shoulders and pulling my gun into my hands. "Ugh, fine. Then you had better run fast! Follow me and stay _quiet_."

He faltered, confused, but trailed me obediently.

This was exactly what I had been hoping to avoid by shooting the guards…yet I couldn't bring myself to ignore even the most suicidal requests that left Feliciano's lips. When he looked at me like that, defending even the murderers that had brought him here, I just could not say no. It was absolutely infuriating. How did he have such power over me?

We emerged from the cover of the shadows and I took off running, hoping that he could keep up just long enough for us to make it out. I didn't risk glancing behind me to check if he was there; that would only slow us down further. If he had any sense in his pasta-riddled brain, he would stay behind me now. Sucking in a sharp breath that burned my throat with ice, I took aim for the thick locks that held the doors shut and shot, watching with elation as they fell uselessly to the ground with a clank. I allowed myself a moment of solace…until the guards, now alerted to our presence, answered my shot with one of their own.

The bullet went wide, slicing through the thick snow beside me.

Feliciano stifled a shriek of terror as the guards continued to aim for the attacking force they couldn't see. They hadn't seemed to notice that the gate was now hanging open, focused only on their own lives. Perhaps if I could get Feliciano quickly enough…I paused, turning and scooping the frantic boy into my arms before speeding through the ice, making the final run. This was my only chance, my last chance, to save his life. I just had to hope the guards would continue shooting blindly into the night and that they wouldn't get in any lucky hits.

I could taste the freedom as we sped through the exit, could feel the relief in Feliciano's posture when there were no longer walls and fences surrounding us on all sides. Though we were running into nothingness, a field of white, we had escaped Auschwitz alive…somehow. I could barely believe it. I had never imagined that one day I would break the law for a puny, pathetic Italian boy. The thought brought a small, unnerved smile to my face, a gentle feeling that I was not accustomed to. Looking down at Feliciano, it seemed he had fallen asleep at some point. He could even fall unconscious during a run for his life. Ridiculous. Still, behind that innocent face was a real man, one that could stand up for the lives of even those who deserved death.

I was suddenly very glad that he had fought me the way he had.

The sound of raging bullets still filled the air behind me, unnervingly close despite the distance I had put between us. Had they called for help already? Were we being followed? It definitely seemed so. I willed my legs to move faster, to get a grip on the impossible ice and get Feliciano out of danger once more. I should have known that happiness of any sort would be a waste of time, at least for now. The faster we escaped, the faster those emotions would be allowed to return. Maybe I would even see Feliciano smile again…never at me, but perhaps someday…

My boot lost its traction on the ground, my leg slipping as I brought my other foot forward. I pitched forward and, though I struggled furiously to keep moving, to use the slippery surface to my advantage, I knew there was nothing I could do. Biting my lip hard, I pulled Feliciano closer as we slammed into the ground, using my arms to protect him. The impact of the fall rang through my whole body, my head pounding in protest where it had landed, but the second we had stopped sliding, I was back on my feet and running. No. I would not let it end for him because of some ridiculous blunder.

I could no longer hear the gunshots ringing through the night. Had they given up that easily? That seemed impossible, but then why were they no longer pursuing us? It unnerved me, the silence that had dawned so suddenly. Then another, much more horrific sound echoed to my ears, one much more striking than the shot of a low-range gun.

Dogs. Dogs howling out as they caught the scent of a traitor.

Even Feliciano stirred as they barked anxiously, ready to please their masters with blood. Shepherds were another thing I had not anticipated in my haste for freedom. People were easy enough to escape, easy enough to outrun if you had strict training. But dogs had senses human beings did not possess, along with speed and stealth. Driven by desire to please, they could be used for just about anything, making them perfect creatures for war. It would not take them long to catch up.

I had no idea what to do. Flowing water would be no option for us in the dead of winter and throwing the scent was impossible. Desperate, I looked around for some form of plan, an idea that could save Feliciano. Only sheets of white greeted my panic. Once a source of protection and comfort, I now felt nothing but lost in the sea of alabaster.

And then it hit me. It had been there all along, strapped across my back. It was my only choice now, a sickening, disturbing violence that had been forced upon me. I had to shoot them, or we would be caught within minutes. A murderer once again. I would never escape it.

Nauseated with myself, I slowed to a stop, placing Feliciano gently into the snow.

"L-Lud…wig…" Feliciano whispered breathlessly. His fevered, hectic eyes rolled up to me, watching uncomprehendingly as I adjusted my gun.

I could not bring myself to answer, to speak to him before the act of horror I was about to commit. I brushed some sweaty hair back from his forehead and then stood, aiming into the fog. Listening closely, I waited for a dog to bark again…there. With a quick, thoughtless yank of my finger, I tried to block out the animal's bloodcurdling screams as the bullet hit its mark.

My heart sputtered miserably at the noise, self-loathing making it all too difficult to cock my gun and take aim once more. However, more dogs were coming for us and I had sworn to save Feliciano no matter what. I could taste bile in my throat with every dog I killed, could only imagine the look of horror plastered on the Italian's face behind me. Somehow it would be worth burning in hell for him. If only he understood how much I wanted to save his life.

It wasn't difficult to tell when I had killed them all; their owners were now the ones in pursuit, intent on revenge for their beloved animals' lives. For now, it was still possible to get away unscathed. I threw Feliciano back into my arms and ran again, dodging bullets for a second time. However, these soldiers were not shooting blindly. In fact, it seemed that somehow they knew exactly where to aim. I thought about the thick snow, the way my boots sunk in and left a perfect print of my boot before I ran on. It was the obvious conclusion. They had found my trail and were following it. I could hear their voices calling out, getting closer and closer as they gained on me.

"Lud…wig," Feliciano said, his voice hitching on an uneven breath. "I…saved your jacket…" He began digging through his pants, until he pulled out the green, wrinkled lump.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"I kept it warm for you…_ve~_…"

I was sure there was no possible end to his selflessness. Or his sheer idiocy. He had absolutely no sense of foreboding. I could feel my face heat up slightly as I took the jacket from him, the warmth of its stiff fabric embarrassing me further. "I…appreciate it," I mumbled awkwardly, avoiding his gaze as I placed it on him like a blanket.

He snuggled into it with a sigh and fell quiet, drifting off again.

For a moment, I couldn't drag my eyes away from his sleeping face. With the guards so close behind now and no possible direction to go but forward, guns firing from every direction, I began to wonder how many more times I would get to see this peaceful look. They were more than likely numbered. Distracted, I didn't hear the shot whizzing towards me until it had grazed across my arm, slicing my numb skin open. I felt the blood dripping warmth down my arm and spattering the snow, pain slowly sending a throbbing through my whole appendage. Startled more than anything, I continued to run until I felt that I was starting to lose my hold on Feliciano, the strength draining out of my muscles.

I cursed as loudly as I dared to, throwing the limp man over my working shoulder without stopping. Again, as before, everything had fallen silent. The sound of the other men calling to each other had faded away as the sun had begun its descent into the thickly clouded sky. Had they given up after seeing my blood on the snow? Did they think I would die soon anyway? It was perfectly logical to assume so. Even I wondered how much further either of us could make it without any medical aid. Feliciano's fever was bound to rage furiously and open wounds needed to be disinfected quickly to prevent dangerous infections.

He gave a small cough, as if to emphasize my point.

I didn't know how long we had been running without pursuit. The sun had fought its way through the haze of clouds long ago, dissolving the fog that had hidden us so well in the night. Had they been following, they would have gone for the kill already… yet I continued to run until every part of my body had gone numb from frost nip before I was willing to take even the slightest break. I knew there was a very small town somewhere near to Auschwitz, where at least Feliciano would be allowed to seek shelter. Maybe they would even treat his feverish state and feed him some real food, two things I was physically unable to do for him at this moment.

Breathing deeply, I lay back in the snow where I had decided to take a break, well-hidden by the shadows of many trees. I had placed Feliciano against the tree, wrapped up in my jacket so that he would not have to feel the ripping bite of the wind that was freezing sections of my skin solid. I could feel his eyes on me now as I brought my fist down to the ground in frustration. There was nothing to do but try to keep him alive until real help could be found. Why had I thought I would be able to give him what he needed?

I heard a soft shuffling noise, the sound of sticks cracking, and felt something soft being laid across my chest. Opening my eyes, I saw that Feliciano had draped my jacket over me as I had for him…like a blanket. I bolted upright and found him leaning against a tree, hugging his legs to his chest as he stared at me. His cheeks were still flushed darkly, but his eyes had cleared of their sickly glaze. Now only worry filled his amber irises, along with the constant wariness he had developed since watching his loved ones get shot.

A shiver trembled through him as our eyes met.

"Y-you looked c-cold," he stuttered through chattering teeth.

I couldn't believe that after all I had done to him, the hell I'd put him through, the absolute misery, he would still hold the gentleness he had from the beginning. I pulled the jacket off and stood, overwhelmed by building emotions I had been forced to suppress for so long. Slowly I made my way over to where he sat, falling to the ground beside him. He watched my every move, but there was no fear in his expression, even when I dropped the jacket onto his lap and pulled him gently into my lifeless arms. To my surprise, he embraced me back, his tears dripping hotly onto my shoulder as he cried.

"Merry Christmas," I muttered, my voice breaking. "You are free."

This just made him cry harder, his fingers gripping fiercely in my shirt. I could feel the frantic pounding of his heart as he pressed into me, his desire for comfort overruling any hatred he should have felt. Finally, I was holding him in my arms…even if it was just until he had sobbed himself to sleep, it was enough. So much more than I had allowed myself to hope for. How long would it last before he realized he despised me again? Before he looked at me with guarded, suspicious eyes?

I felt one of his hands release its vice grip on my clothes and trail down my arm to the place where the bullet had sliced my skin. It had already started to scab over, though it had already taken on an odd, infected dark color. He seemed to be seeing it for the first time…horrified, he looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"It is nothing," I tried to reassure him. "It will heal quickly."

"You need medicine, Wiggie!" he exclaimed with surprising vigor for someone so sick.

Wiggie…? I ignored the strange nickname, blaming it on his feverish state and feeling my cheeks warm slightly. "_Nein_," I sighed, but stood and slung my gun back over my shoulder. Turning back to him, I pulled him up into my arms again, ignoring as my left protested. "If we find medication, it will be for you."

He seemed concerned about the pain that crossed my face when I heaved him up into my grasp, but he stayed quiet as we ventured back out into the snow. After a few minutes of silence, he reached up and touched my face, shocking me into almost dropping him.

"Wiggie, _ve~_? Why are you saving me?"

His question did nothing for the surprise that had come over me. How could I answer his question? I knew the reason well enough, but…how could I tell him?

"I...felt that the world needed a smile like yours," I grumbled quietly, almost hoping that he couldn't hear me.

For a moment he seemed to think about that, before his face lit up and he laughed, a sound that I had already convinced myself I would never get to hear. "_Grazie_, _ve~_!" Beaming, he added, "Merry Christmas, Wiggie!" and flashed a smile that I knew was meant for only me.

Was this…forgiveness?


	7. The Village

**Hi, everyone~ So i don't really have that much to say, just the typical thanks to those of you who have followed this story and told me how you felt :) I really appreciate the positive commentary! Um... ignore my Polish, because i don't speak Polish at all, i look to cruddy translators for my words. Okay! So please, read and enjoy the new chapter~! I worked on it all day :D**

The village in the distance was neatly placed between two mountains, obscuring it from the view of those with less careful eyes. If I had not been trained to see everything, I would have likely ignored the sliver of brick chimney that I had spotted through the leaves of thick foliage. They had hidden their home rather skillfully. But surely a town this close to Auschwitz had already been raided for Jews and other offenders long ago. I doubted there was anything but Christian Poles left…which gave me hope. It was Christmas, so it was possible that they would ignore my obvious Nazi status and help Feliciano.

The boy in arms shook violently, despite my attempts to cover him with my jacket and hold him close to my body heat. However, his rapidly changing temperature made it difficult to keep up. In another minute, it was likely he would be sweating, and I would have to stop to remove the jacket or put some cool snow on his face. It had been hours since he'd last opened his eyes…the last time he had spoken to me was when he'd told me Merry Christmas and laughed like everything was going to be okay.

Now I could not get him to respond.

Every half an hour or so, I had to check his pulse just to be sure he was still alive. His face, which had been pale before we'd left, was now as white as the snow beneath us. When I'd pulled his eye open, its amber iris had been lifeless, hazy. The only thing that alerted me to his awareness was his occasional gasps and whimpers as he dreamed. Every time he cried out, I found myself moving faster. Every second that ticked away was another heartbeat closer to the end of his life.

There was a measure of relief as I shoved forcefully through the trees to the only chance of saving Feliciano's life. The houses, lined up and down the cobblestone roads, were small, cracks and vines growing across the beige colored sides and stretching to the dark roofs in haphazard order. They almost seemed uninhabited in their disrepair…my heart dropped in my chest. Feliciano couldn't make until I found another town.

Desperately, I hurried to the edge of the tree line and started calling for help, one of the few Polish words I had picked up in my Nazi career. "_Pomoc!" _I yelled, cursing myself for not learning the language. I was sure they would get the point, despite my German accent.

A cold silence met my outburst, the wind the only thing that moved even a bit.

I dropped to my knees and pulled Feliciano closer, hugging him to myself gently. "I tried," I whispered to him. "But God was not on our side." I closed my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth as I fought back the gripping sadness I felt. I had lost the battle for his precious life.

"G-God…is…always…there."

My eyes flew open again and I looked down at the dying man in my arms, finding his gaze was trained on me. He smiled weakly, bringing his hands together over mine and bowing his head. He mouthed the words as he spoke them, but his prayer was a silent one, meant to be from us both.

"Amen, _ve~,_" he said, doing the Sign of the Cross before looking at me expectantly.

Awkwardly, I added, "Uh…Amen."

Feliciano nodded his approval and then crashed back into my chest, unconscious once more. I held him close to me again, feeling much better now that he had spoken again. Perhaps he had more time than I had thought. Maybe I could go find another town…

"_Cześć?_" a woman's voice called out. "Who is here?"

Shocked, I stood quickly, glad that she seemed to know English. "My friend needs help," I called back to her.

She heard my accent and I could hear the hesitance as she spoke again, coming into view. "Your friend?"

The woman was wearing a green country dress, a white apron strewn over the front, and her short blonde hair was tied back from her face. She seemed young, mid- twenties at most, and regarded me with steely, nervous green eyes. Clearly, this was a trick that had been pulled by Nazis before.

"Yes, he has a fever and is starving. Please take care of him…and do not worry, he is Italian." When I saw her guard loosen at the sight of Feliciano's emaciated body, I added, "I beg you to save his life. I will pay anything."

"Anything? Why would you risk all your things for the life of him when you are, like, covered in blood and are totally a Nazi and stuff?" She seemed less afraid of me now, approaching me with curiosity.

I could not help but give her a peculiar look as I struggled to understand through the fog in my brain. "I…" A strange feeling of dizziness came over me, causing the world to spin. "I…have to…save his…smile." I fell to the ground again, cushioning the blow for Feliciano, and felt my own consciousness slip as the last few days of effort caught up to me, dragging me into darkness.

"Hey, Nazi! Nazi guy person!"

The voice buzzing in my ear was vaguely familiar…still, it was not the voice I wanted to hear. I groaned, opening my eyes and staring around at the blurry world. My head was pounding, and it seemed that every muscle in my body was aching, but the most uncomfortable thing was the burning in my shoulder. I sat up, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings slowly…Then I remembered. I turned to the person who had spoken next to me…he looked slightly like the woman from yesterday…and grabbed him by the shirt.

"Feliciano! Where is Feliciano?" I asked him frantically.

"Whoa, chill, Nazi guy!" he squeaked, "Paws off! The Italian is, like, right over there!" He pointed to a bed next to mine.

I released my hold on him, looking over to see Feliciano curled up with my jacket, a damp rag across his forehead. He was drooling, a smile across his face, dreaming of having something good to eat. His face had returned to a healthy pink color, though hectic spots of red still remained on his cheeks. Already, he seemed so much better off than he had been with me…

"Where is that woman?" I demanded suddenly, without really knowing why. "The one who brought us here?"

He pursed his lips. "Woman? Woman…woman…Oh! I totally forgot! Yeah, I brought you here in a dress! Wasn't it way cute on me?"

I stared uncomprehendingly at the flamboyant man dancing around in front of me. He seemed to be wearing clothes normal for a man now. Had my imagination just played tricks on me yesterday? I was positive I had been talking to a woman. Yes, this man was…girly…but his voice was too deep to be a woman's. I eyed him with a measure of distrust, looking down at my wrapped shoulder wound. Had a man like that…really done this?

"Toris! The Nazi guy is, like, totally awake now!" the Polish man trilled, smiling a lazy smile as another man entered the room, carrying a tray with food.

He gave me a warm, slightly troubled grin. "Ah, good morning, sir!" he said with an accent unfamiliar to me as he placed the tray at the end of my bed. "I've made some breakfast for you." His attention turned to the Polish man. "Why are you in here bugging the sick? I put breakfast out on the table for you, Feliks. You should go and eat."

This man seemed much more reasonable. There was a careful air about him that the other did not have. His blue eyes were steady and gentle instead of shifty and his clothes were definitely made for males. Despite his long brown hair, he still held masculinity while somehow still seeming…motherly. Like he was used to caring for others. This was the one who had taken care of me and Feliciano's injuries.

"Not hungry~," Feliks smirked, sitting down on the floor.

The other, Toris, gave him a look of dwindling patience, but then ignored him, coming over to change my bandages. "I'm glad you finally woke! You've been asleep for two days, so I was starting to worry that I would not be able to help you…I'm not a doctor or anything…but I did what I could and disinfected your wounds. Oh, and I gave him some medicine for his fever! It has come down quite a bit and he even ate some food yesterday. It looked like you both had been beaten up so much…" He trailed off, looking curious.

My eyes widened. "He…woke up?" I glanced over at where he lay again. His peaceful, easy expression almost made me grin…until I saw the other two looking at me. I coughed uncomfortably and took the tray of food from the end of the bed. "Thank you…for everything you have done for us both," I told Toris. "Without you, we would not have made it any farther."

"Hey, like, what about me? I totally dragged your heavy butt back to this house!" Feliks complained. Then he chuckled, his eyes darting to me and then back to Toris. "Liet, listen! He thought I was, like, seriously a girl! He woke up and asked where the woman from yesterday was! Isn't that sooo funny?"

I felt my face redden slightly, but tried to keep a straight face as I ate the delicious soup Toris had prepared.

"Well, it's no wonder he was. You are always dressing up in woman's clothing! That would confuse anybody," he muttered, and I quietly wondered if he had had a personal experience. "Uh," he said, turning to me. "Don't listen to him. He has a problem with rudeness."

At that moment, the Pole yawned loudly, rolling around on the floor. "I think I want to eat now! Like, get my food, Liet!"

Toris sighed. "Go get your own food. It's just on the table in the next room."

Feliks let out a breath of air, looking bored. "Liet," he whined, "Liet, Liet, Liet…I'm totally starving to death! Like, c'mon, Liet!"

"Quit making such a fuss! Alright, I'll get it!" Toris, obviously annoyed, went to get the breakfast. He came back seconds later, setting the food down in front of Feliks carefully. "Now stop whining like a little baby child!"

The Pole grinned. "You are, like, too easy, Toris!"

I watched the whole ordeal with both revulsion and interest. It was clear these two were very close to each other…the way they acted reminded me of the way elderly citizens acted with their spouses. Briefly, I considered the idea that they_ could_ be a couple…but I dismissed the idea immediately. The Nazis had already emptied this village of the undesirables, and had these two been living together, they would have been taken to a concentration camp for being homosexuals, whether they actually were or not. Though I couldn't shake the feeling that they were more than just close friends.

I stared down into my empty soup bowl, realization setting in now that I was fed and rested. He had made it out of Auschwitz. Feliciano was safe, sleeping right next to me without a care in the world. My goal had already been accomplished. So why did I feel like I no longer wanted to let him go? Of course, I still needed to bring him to a country of safety…but could we even make it that far without being caught? I knew they had sent more soldiers after us once daylight had arrived. And that had been two days ago. A sickening feeling of restless dread came over me.

We had to get out of here.

Quickly, I got to my feet, nearly knocking into Polish boy laying on the ground complaining about his soup's temperature, and looked around. Where was my gun? The extra ammunition? I saw neither around, just a pile of bloody bandages.

"Uh, I'm sorry…but I think you should probably stay in bed," Toris suggested, moving his hands like he wanted to make me lie back down. "You had a bad head injury and, well, what looked like a bullet wound on your shoulder. You shouldn't be moving around too much."

The minute I focused, I knew he was right. My head was pounding savagely and my shoulder felt like it was on fire. But Feliciano was still in danger of being exterminated and that was not an option. "Thank you for caring for us," I said again. "I am more than grateful and I will pay you whatever amount of money you would like…" I paused, realizing I had no money with me. "I will pay you for your care once I get back home to Germany…."

"Oh, no!" Toris shook his head. "No money!" He gave me a warm smile. "It was obvious you two were running away from someone and you were both very sick…so I decided the moment I took you in, I would not charge. I'm just glad you are both okay."

It was obvious from his expression that he meant it.

"Whaaaaat~?" Feliks groaned. "You aren't giving us money? Even after we healed all your wounds and junk? Then, like, pay us with something else! Oh, I totally got it! You can be our sex slave! Your uniform is so badass!"

"Feliks!" Toris looked mortified. "He doesn't mean that," he assured me. "You don't have to pay a single thing, money or otherwise. But I do hope you'll stay here for at least one more night…I don't know who's chasing you or why, but we won't let them get to you. So please, feel free to stay and relax for just a little longer."

Uncertainly, I sat back down and ran a hand through my messy, un-gelled hair, thinking it through. It had been two days and they hadn't been investigated yet. Would one more night be safe? Feliciano's life was not in immediate danger here and he seemed content enough to stay. Maybe another day of rest would be beneficial for the long journey back to Germany. Of course, I was imposing on these strangers and taking all their supplies. Their charity would not go unrewarded by me once I had money in my possession. However for now, they would just have to believe I was selfish enough to take all this for free.

"Oh, I forgot to ask Feliciano…um, excuse me, but what is your name? If you don't mind?" Toris asked politely. "Mine is Toris and that rude Pole is Feliks."

I hesitated a moment, though I wasn't sure why I still felt wary. "Ludwig," I answered finally.

"Is Feli your Italian fuck buddy or what?" Feliks asked, his spoon hanging out of his mouth.

Toris shot him another reproachful look, which he ignored effortlessly.

I stiffened, my face heating up again. What was wrong with this man? "_N-nein_," I grumbled awkwardly, trying to push away the images he had created in my mind. "Feliciano is..."

"Nuh-uh!" he interrupted, jumping up. "When I saved you, you totally passed out saying, 'I have to save his smile' or something like that! You are, like, so into him!"

"Feliks…don't pry," Toris scolded, but it seemed halfhearted. He wanted to know too.

"Feliciano is a friend," I told them, trying to ignore the painful stab of the truth. "I am saving him from Auschwitz."

Toris's brow furrowed as he took my empty breakfast dish from me. "I had a feeling it was something like that. Runaways come here often, so the citizens here often act as if this village were deserted. We determine who to save and who to leave. You were very lucky Feliks decided you weren't a threat…your Aryan coloring and Nazi uniform would have put anyone else off."

I nodded. I'd known that well enough when I had approached this town. I had come here prepared to die in order to save Feliciano and had been blessed enough to have been saved myself. It felt good not be judged by my appearance for once. "I would not have protested if he had just taken Feliciano. He is the reason I have for escaping. As long as he is alive, my mission is a success. My life is not important."

"Wiggie!" Feliciano exclaimed. The three of us looked over to him in surprise. He was watching us with a huge smile plastered on his face, rubbing his eyes like he had been crying. "Wiggie! You're alive, _ve~_!" Still clutching my jacket in his hands, he leapt to his feet and threw himself into my arms, hugging me tightly. "I was so scared you were gonna die, I kept having scary dreams that you were gone! But I had a yummy dream about pasta and felt better! Then I woke up and you were okay again!"

Shocked and embarrassed, I glanced away from his face wordlessly. Still, I let him keep embracing me, wanting to feel his warmth.

"Uh, Feliks, why don't you …come help me make Feliciano's breakfast?" Toris asked, sensing the mood.

"Like, why? I don't want-" he started to whine again, but Toris grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out, leaving us alone.

When they were gone, Feliciano looked up at me, his eyes teary again. At first, I was afraid he had remembered that he should not have forgiven me so easily, but he was smiling. Confused, I could only wait for him to explain. "It's not true, Wiggie," he said.

"What?" I asked, still not understanding.

"_Ve~_, you said that your life isn't important and that it doesn't matter as long as I live. I didn't know you felt like that! I just wanted you to know, it's not true," he told me. "Because without you, I'd be so lonely, Wiggie. I don't want you to ever go away."

My heart took off in my chest, throbbing hopelessly as I took in his words. He wanted me to stay with him. Did he even understand what he did to me when he said these things? I put my arms around him and hugged him closer, feeling so helplessly, desperately trapped in the feelings only he could evoke. Sometime while we'd run away, I'd lost the careful control I'd once possessed.

How had I allowed myself to fall in love with him?


	8. Shadow and Snow

**Finally! I've been waiting for forever to have the time to finish another chapter, and finally i was able to do it by staying up really late :D Thank you very much for your patience with me, i suddenly became very busy with a job and my time to write was extremely limited...but now that i no longer have the job, i have my summer back~! Please read and enjoy my newest chapter) I'll try to keep my updates coming quickly!**

I could hear Feliciano's warm laughter through the thin bedroom door, the sounds of a house full of people a comforting form of nostalgia. It felt like my own home had once, the easy banter and smell of a meal cooking on the stove. However, even the familial scene in the kitchen did not ease my restlessness and I couldn't stop myself from looking out the cracked panes of the nearby window every hour or so. How long had I been lying here since Feliciano had gone to help Feliks and Toris with their daily chores? It felt like it had been several hours now. After his fever had lifted, he had been permitted to go wherever in the house he pleased, while I had been ordered to rest the whole day. Never knowing what was going to happen next was maddening, but lying around and waiting to find out was worse.

Too anxious to sit, I paced the room back and forth, looking for my gun while I planned where we would go next. Now that we had both been healed, it would be less urgent to seek the assistance of other people and avoiding being seen by them would help us stay unknown for a little longer. Travelling the outskirts of large cities, we would both have access to help if we needed it and a source of food so that Feliciano would never have to go hungry again. Also, we would be near to a train station in the case we needed a quick escape route, though without any money, such a thing was almost useless. Getting to Germany on foot was the only option, though it would take an endless amount of time and energy.

"Wiggie?" Feliciano opened the door slowly, his head peeking in to see if I was awake. Finding me up and moving, he skipped inside. "_Ve~, _you're awake! Are you feeling better now? I helped Toris make some yummy pasta for dinner! Come out and eat with me!"

I paused, taking in his cheerful, sunny expression. How could he smile this way after losing so much so fast? His brother had died just days ago…was this his coping mechanism? Underneath this bright exterior, I knew there had to be horrible suffering. Yet he still had the ability to make friends so easily, to adjust so quickly to his surroundings. It was truly a relief, his easygoing nature. I nodded, following him as he meandered to the small, circular table squeezed into the tiny cottage's dining area. As best as I could, I wedged myself into one of the too-small chairs awkwardly and watched as Feliciano danced around the kitchen, piling plates high with pasta. Feliks and Toris were, for some reason, nowhere to be seen.

"Where are the others?" I couldn't shake the horrible feeling that had arisen in me, putting me on edge.

"They went into town to get some groceries!" he told me, setting a plate in front of me.

I stared at the steaming noodles, my stomach tightening. "They went to town to get groceries right before dinner? What will they eat?"

He sat down beside me, bringing his fork to his mouth and chewing with a big smile. "_Ve~, _I'll heat them up more pasta when they come home!"

I sighed, eating despite the fact that I was no longer hungry. Leaving us alone together when we were fugitives on the run…it seemed suspicious, a way to trap us like mice and leave us to the wild cats. I had been too careless; I had trusted strangers simply because they had healed Feliciano from his sickness. Now we would both pay if we did not escape soon. I was tired of this sick chasing game. Looking at Feliciano, it was obvious the only thing on his simple mind was his happiness about finally getting pasta again. He wouldn't have been able to sense the mood had a Nazi been right in front of him.

"Wiggie? Is it yummy?" Feliciano asked, scooting closer to me.

"Uh, _ja_," I replied, using the food as an excuse not to look him in the eye. "It is…very good."

His smile widened and he hugged onto my arm. "Yay! I did my very best for you, _ve~!_"

I flushed, for a moment forgetting to worry. He had done his very best for me? It was embarrassing…but for some reason, it made me happy. "Thank you," I told him quietly, unsure how to express my gratitude properly. His energetic, smiling face made it too hard to think logically.

"You're welcome~!" He snuggled into my side, his head falling onto my shoulder sleepily. "I love…pasta…_ve~…_"

Within seconds, he was snoring lightly.

I stared at his content face a moment, still astounded by his ability to curl up and fall asleep anywhere. He was impossibly calm all the time, except when he was frightened or hungry…Every other time, it seemed he was just too airheaded to notice that things didn't make sense. I pulled him into my arms, noting that he had gained a very minimal amount of weight in such a short time, and started to take him to a bed.

Just as I was setting him down, a knock came at the door.

Like a flood, all the unnerved and fearful emotions came racing back, the need to save Feliciano's life yet again consuming me. Toris and Feliks would not knock on their own door. This was a stranger…most likely somebody who had discovered our location and was planning to attack the moment the door was opened. The Nazis had followed our tracks. Had those men given us away?

I had to think quickly and calmly. Since I had come here, I had been unable to find my gun and ammo, which meant they had hidden it. Likely to protect themselves, if I had ended up being a rogue. But now, that only meant I had no time to find it before leaving. My only option was to take Feliciano and escape out the window on the side of the house; they would be expecting me to try the back door if they truly were soldiers. Quickly, I pulled the sleeping Italian into my arms again and hurried to the window, my heart pumping frantically with the adrenaline that had become so familiar. I smashed it open with a swift kick, the glass shattering, and jumped out into the snow, taking off once again as fast as my legs would allow.

This scene was nauseatingly familiar, a horrible time just a few days ago in which we had both almost died. It was different now, though. Neither of us was terribly sick, we had full stomachs, and we were both well-rested. I had to convince myself that death was no longer waiting to hold Feliciano hostage. But without my gun, we were defenseless, sitting targets to anyone who held a firearm and an accurate shot.

"Wiggie…" Feliciano mumbled, glancing up at me with half-lidded eyes.

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked, checking behind me to be sure we weren't being followed.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye…" He frowned sadly, his eyes falling shut once more.

I stared down at him in surprise, his face now relaxed but somehow still…unhappy. "I know," I muttered quietly, pulling his shivering body closer.

There were so many things I wanted to promise him. More than anything, I wanted to tell him that he was safe, that he would be happy soon…that he would get to see Feliks and Toris again. That this was not the way it would end. But I could not even give him that kind of assurance. His psychological suffering would remain endless. And I would not be able to help him, no matter how much I wanted to ease the pain. That was a battle he would have to win on his own.

We crossed into Germany sometime in the dead of night days later, unnoticed in the cover of darkness. This time, Feliciano was standing on his own feet, despite my protest that he would not be safe in the event that we were caught.

"I'll be fine, Wiggie!" he'd said, hugging me. "Don't worry, _ve~_!"

It had taken only a confident smile from him to get me to agree.

I cursed my weakness, recalling the memory, and pulled Feliciano closer to my side as he lagged behind, panting from exhaustion. We had been moving for over twelve hours, stopping only once to find a source of food and water before continuing. I knew his once bone- thin body, emaciated body would not be able to take much, but stopping for any measure of time had made me too nervous and we had pushed on. Now, I was sure he was going to collapse at any moment as he took staggering steps behind me and clutched the back of my shirt.

"T-tired," he mumbled, his grip loosening as he struggled to stay awake.

I couldn't help but agree. Even I was exhausted, but we were so far from where we needed to be. Finding Gilbert was the goal now and with him being in Berlin and us being just on the border…It seemed an impossible task to get there without rest. Feliciano's whimpers only furthered that resolve. I looked around at the scenery, aiming to find a plume of chimney smoke rising from between the branches of the snowy trees. However, the forest was entirely still, without so much as an animal to prove that there was life anywhere around. It was a lonely picture set before me, one that spoke perfectly of our situation. All I could see were shadows and snow.

There was no other option; we would have to make camp outside.

We had managed to be lucky thus far, sneaking into the barns of unsuspecting farmers, curling up together in the hay for warmth. Then, I had simply been grateful for the chance of shelter and the knowledge that no harm would befall Feliciano when I could keep him so close. It had seemed inevitable even then that our luck would change. My instinct had proven to be correct.

I turned abruptly, causing the half-unconscious Feliciano to run sleepily into my chest. He looked up at me absently, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

"You will wait here," I ordered, pulling my jacket tighter around his slim body and pointing to the base of a large tree. "I must go find wood for a fire. We will be camping here tonight."

His lip trembled as he looked to where I had ordered him to stay. "Wiggie…I don't want to be alone! Please don't leave me!"

Panic. For the first time, I was seeing the fear that his time in Auschwitz had brought him. My heart melted as his eyes filled with tears and I knew I would never be able to leave him, just as much as he didn't want to be left. I took his hand, looking away with embarrassment as our fingers fell together, interlocking perfectly.

"Th-then come this way," I said gruffly, ignoring my heart as it flew in my chest.

He followed me happily, humming cheerfully despite our situation as I found the components I would need to create our fire. He helped, collecting the smaller twigs, which seemed to be all he could carry. By the time we had covered the entire nearby area, I was sure we had enough to fuel a fire for a long while. It was a stretch to make a fire, which could possibly lead our pursuers right to us, but it was too cold to go without one. Already, Feliciano was trembling violently, though he didn't seem to notice it himself.

Lighting the fire was a slow process that took much care, but the branches eventually caught and burned brightly, casting a muted yellow glow across the clearing we had found. Once it had been lit, Feliciano had quickly fallen asleep, his head somehow ending up resting on my lap. The day had been far too long for someone so weak. I leaned against a tree trunk, my head turned skyward. In the blanket of black, an endless pattern of stars shone alongside the full moon, one complimenting the other. It was a wonderful sight, one I had not had time to enjoy in years. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath of the frigid air, relaxing. I would just rest my eyes for a moment…someone had to keep guard.

_I was alone in a forest, running blindly through the thick snow and dodging trees frantically. What was I running from? I could remember nothing, could hear nothing. It seemed that even the color had been bleached out of the scene I was sprinting through, all blacks, whites, and grays. My legs felt like rubber on the icy ground, and I felt myself lose my footing. I sprawled across the ground, bracing for the impact…but it never came. A hand had taken hold of my dog tags, yanking me up to my feet with choking force. I struggled to my feet, readying myself for the fight I was sure was going to ensue. Instead, a pair of innocent, child's eyes watched me._

_"You almost didn't make it. But I helped you up, so you better keep running," said the ten-year-old child. Suddenly, he vanished in a gust of snow blown wind._

_I watched him leave fearfully, but turned and kept running until I came upon a pool of blood, staining the snow with gore. Frozen with shock, I didn't realize the scene had changed and I was now in the bedroom of a familiar little cottage house until I heard the sound of a shattering window. Shocked, I looked up from the bloody floor to find a pair of fiery yellow eyes glowing in the dark, a fist covered in crimson and glass shards. The man's furious scowl and dark brown hair were immediately familiar to me._

_"Alright, you damn potato bastard, you better not screw this up! Save my stupid fratello or I'll haunt your ass forever! Go this way, out the window!"_

_It took me only a moment to comply with his request and I leapt from the window, again taking off through a forest and into the night. Suddenly, a weight grew in my arms and they became heavier, as if I were holding someone…I looked down to find a sleeping cat curled up, his fur thick and tan, with dark brown spots. Feeling my eyes on him, he awoke and looked up with a smile and a twitch of his tail._

_"Ve~, meow!" he purred, rubbing himself against me. "It's Wiggie!"_

"…Wiggie…"

I stirred restlessly, brightness lighting up the insides of my eyelids.

"_Ve~!_ Wiggie! It's morning time, sleepyhead!"

I felt the brush of a hand across my cheek, soft and warm and familiar…I clutched at it, holding it closer. Someone giggled off in the distance as the cat in my dream slowly started to fade away. I opened my eyes, shocked to still be feeling the cat's warmth, and found Feliciano's face was just inches away from mine. Wide-eyed, I could not move a muscle as he leaned over and kissed my cheek, before pulling back with that smile…

I shot up straight, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling into the snow. "YOU…!" I yelled, unable to form a full sentence in my confusion.

He sat up, covered in snow and giggling at me. "_Buongiorno, _Wiggie!" His face was flushed from the cold, but his eyes were playful and lively.

Good…morning? I looked around at the brightened clearing, the long-dead fire pit, and the bright blue sky with dismay. I had fallen asleep, even with Feliciano's life on the line. Allowing myself to slack off was an unforgivable mistake, not to mention a dangerous one. I had to be more vigilant. Turning to apologize to Feliciano, I did not expect to see him rolling snow across the clearing like a child. Yet there he was, rolling it into a massive clump and smoothing it meticulously, before getting another. Was he making a snowman? At a time like this?

"Feliciano…" I sighed, trying not to smile and dropping my head into my hand.

"_Ve~, _look, Wiggie! It's you and me!" he called after a few more minutes.

I looked up, still fighting the smile, to find that he had finished two whole snowmen; one was tall and had a serious look on its face, with slicked back hair and…was that blush? The other was shorter and spaced-out, a curly piece of bark sticking out from the side of its head. His arms held a plate of snow pasta and the German snowman's stick hand.

Feliciano danced over to me, imitating the scene he had created. "Aren't they cute~?" he asked me.

"Uh, _ja_…we should start moving," I answered, turning away and pulling my hand from his, pretending to be busy planning what we would do next.

In truth, I had already planned on making it to my home by tomorrow night at the latest. From there, we would figure out what to do. We could not stay in Germany for very long and the majority of Europe was just as dangerous as being here. Leaving the entire continent was the only way to keep both Feliciano and Gilbert safe…which meant our options were limited. I would have to decide the most logical option.

"How much farther, Wiggie? Where are we going, _ve~_?" Feliciano wondered.

"Berlin. That is where my home is," I answered, wondering why I had never told him that. "We will plan where to go after that."

A bright smile stretched his lips and he grabbed my hand again. "Can we go to America, Wiggie? Let's go see America together!"

His enthusiasm brought another flush to my face, causing me to look at my feet. "If…that is where you would like to go."

"_Si_! I hope they have lots of yummy food there!" He started drooling hungrily, before turning back to me. "Wiggie~?"

I looked at him, feeling his hand clutch mine tighter. "What is it?"

"Let's be together forever, okay?"

I glanced down at my boots. Could I make such a deep promise when tomorrow could be the end of our lives? I exhaled heavily, looking down at his patient face. "Okay," i grumbled, "As long as forever lasts, I will be by your side."

The power of his smile burned away all my doubts.


	9. The Awesome Me

**Alright, i was able to update much quicker than i expected to! :D Okay, i have some thanks to give, because my last chapter failed to submit (for some unknown reason) and one reader actually bothered to message me about it! So many thanks to royaldigitalknight for letting me know~! Because i never would have realized otherwise! Aaaand, of course, thank you to everyone who is reading this ^^ Well, that's all i have to say, other than this chapter actually made ME cry, which is more than rare, it's practically impossible...Despite that, please enjoy it! I'll update again soon!**

The sense of danger could be felt from a few miles outside of Berlin. Smoke rose from the capital city, an object of the allies' ever-constant bombing and fighting. I couldn't believe I was about to drag Feliciano into an active warzone, but I shook off the insecurity quickly. With any luck, Gilbert was still hiding out there in our home, alive and well despite the horrible things happening. I would never leave him behind, even if he could be a nuisance. Besides that, my dogs had been with Gilbert the last time I had seen them. It would be nice to have them as company, especially for Feliciano.

I swallowed nervously, the knowledge that Nazis would be everywhere weighing on me. Would they have sent a message out from Auschwitz about a runaway soldier saving a prisoner? I couldn't say one way or the other, but I knew hiding our identities was important. Looking down at myself, it was obvious I wouldn't be able to blend into normal society this way. Perhaps I could play Feliciano off as an injured woman if I wrapped his head up…his body was certainly effeminate enough…but for me, I would require new, inconspicuous clothing. My tattered SS uniform would definitely draw unwanted attention.

As we came closer to the city, the sight of collapsing buildings brought me up short. When I had left Germany, just years ago, the destruction had been minimal. But now, things were destroyed everywhere I looked. Would my old home still be standing? If not, had Gilbert escaped? I couldn't still my heart as it leapt fearfully, the memories of my childhood here broken into infinite pieces. Even remembering my own brother's face was starting to become difficult for me. The last memory I had of him was a look of poorly masked fear and some forgettable, ridiculous words he had uttered.

Unable to recall them other than the word 'awesome', I sat back on the slippery, snow-drifted hill and felt Feliciano wrap his hand around mine. Normally, I would have looked down at him to see his expression, but I could not afford such a distraction now. I had to think clearly about how we were going to go about this.

"Wiggie?" Feliciano's sweet voice cut through my focus.

I furrowed my eyebrows, putting my head in the hand Feliciano wasn't holding. I had to ignore him…Ignore him and plan. I had already allowed responsibility to slip from my grasp one too many times escaping Auschwitz.

"Wiggie…!"

This time I couldn't help but look, his voice shaking as he tried to hide behind me. "What is it?" I glanced into the forest sideways, wondering what it was he was afraid of. "What did you see?"

He whimpered, "There was a man in a Nazi uniform…"

I was on my feet in an instant. Clearly, my time for thinking was up. "We are leaving," I told Feliciano, hauling him into my arms and covering his head with my jacket. "You are an injured woman," I whispered into his ear. "Do not speak to anyone."Muffled under the jacket, he said something that I could not understand. Impatiently, I took the covering off. "What?"

"What about you, _ve~_? Who are you playing, Wiggie?" he smiled, like this was some kind of fun dress up game.

"I am playing no one!" I said, shoving the jacket back on his head. "Now be unconscious!"

He lay still and silent. Sighing, I started toward the burning city slowly, in the case that we were being watched from afar. Any mention of a Nazi being that close was too dangerous to ignore. I had thought, secluded in the forest as we were, we would not be found that quickly. Paranoid, I glanced around again at the silent, invisible threat. What if Feliciano had just been imagining it as a reaction from his trauma? I looked down at the likely sleeping form in my arms worriedly, wondering just how much he had suffered from being locked away as he had been. Post-traumatic stress disorder was a constant threat for both soldiers and prisoners alike, as well as severe depression.

I couldn't help but remember the Feliciano that had come to the camp, the one who had had his brother and childish naivety that had made him stand out to me. He had been able to hold on to it for so long, until he'd lost Lovino. The Feliciano now…he acted the same, but he had grown attached to me. Had he not been filled with loneliness and fear, he would have never forgiven me like he had. I was all he had left, despite being a murderer, and he was so terrified of being left alone to fall into a pit of emptiness that he would even hold onto me for comfort.

Whether that was love or not, I would be there.

I reached up and mussed my hair frantically, right as we entered the city. If we were stopped, I would simply say we had been attacked and that I was trying to get my wife to an infirmary. I was sure we looked the part well enough, disheveled as we were. Falling into the crowd, I crept noiselessly through the backstreets, a path Gilbert and I had taken several times when we were younger. It was the best way to sneak back into the house at night, or so my brother had said. I had committed it to memory as an important route, though the details were shaky now. Was I supposed to go right or left…?

A barking dog dragged my attention from the pathway, my pulse racing as I remembered the Nazis setting their dogs on us at Auschwitz. I didn't have my gun now. I looked up, ready to run again, only to find a chubby Golden Retriever was trotting up to me, tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.

"Aster!" I exclaimed, petting the dog's head.

His ears perked up and he gave my hand a gentle lick, his thick tail wagging frantically. Then, curiously, he sniffed the bundle I held in my arms, poking Feliciano's side with his wet nose.

Feliciano giggled, uncovering his head and peeking out. "It's a doggie, _ve~_!" he said excitedly, reaching out and scratching the happy Retriever's ears. "Wiggie, is he yours?"

"_Ja_," I said with surprise. "He is. That means we are close to the house. He has come to lead us there."

Aster gave a confirming bark and started to meander away, turning and looking at us with beckoning eyes.

"Aster's a good doggie!" Feliciano cooed.

I followed after the waddling dog, his slow pace calm and unhurried. "I wonder if Blackie and Berlitz are still there as well," I muttered to myself, appreciating the temporary running break.

Feliciano looked up. "You have more? Yay, I love doggies, _ve~_!"

I felt my face warm up and glanced away. "You can probably walk now. We are almost there." I set him on his feet gently. "But keep the jacket and if you see any soldiers, put it over your head."

"Okay, Wiggie!" He held the jacket in his hands, steadying his legs and grinning up at me, his face lightly flushed from the cold.

My heart lurched at his cuteness and even though I bit down on my lip, I couldn't stop my hand from moving to brush one of his reddened cheeks. His eyes were like liquid amber as he gazed up at me, first with surprise and then with warmth. He put a hand over mine to keep it there.

"Wiggie?" He moved closer, until we were all but touching. "Will you kiss me, _ve_~?"

K-Kiss him? Was he out of his mind? We were in the middle of a street in a city where homosexuals were shot and killed on the spot. And yet, I found myself leaning toward him despite the danger, his pleading face impossible to deny…

"ASTER! THE AWESOME ME CALLS FOR YOU TO COME BACK!"

I jerked away from our embrace, reality sinking back in. The voice echoed down the alleyway, so annoyingly familiar…Just seconds later, its owner rounded the corner. His gray hair was in complete disarray, his red eyes full of annoyance at the supposed runaway dog until they met mine.

"WEST?" he yelled, not even bothering to try to lower his voice.

"Silence, you idiot! Do you not realize where you are right now?" I asked furiously, stomping over.

He cackled irritatingly, pointing at me. "This isn't happening! The awesome me is having a horrible nightmare where his brother shows up looking like shit and yells at him!"

I brought my fist down lightly on his head. "It is no nightmare!" I growled. "This is reality!"

He rubbed his injury, still chuckling with a wicked smile. "It _is_ West!" He peered around me. "Who is the scrawny girl man?"

Feliciano stood a foot away, staring at us with airheaded confusion, his head cocked to the side. When I turned to him, he smiled and waved. Of course he was confused…we had been speaking in German. I looked back to my brother, sighing.

"Feliciano. Enough of this, we will speak once we get back to the house. Aster is waiting for us."

The dog gave a bark, tugging at Gilbert's pant leg.

He looked down at the creature in surprise. "Your dogs are so not awesome, West!" he whined. "The awesome me was tortured by them while you were gone!"

"That is because they do not like annoying things," I said, making sure to speak in English for Feliciano's sake, "And that is what you are. Aster wants you to go back home and be quiet. So do I, for that matter. Do you want to be caught and killed?"

Gilbert squinted at me, like he was staring at some kind of strange specimen. "Hehehe~! Why are you speaking in English, West? The awesome me can't understand a word you're saying!"

I shook my head, bringing a hand to my head in exasperation. I had forgotten that my brother was a complete idiot. "Nevermind. Feliciano…stay close to me."

Feliciano, thankful that he could finally understand something, skipped over to my side and took my hand by instinct. I nearly pulled away from him, feeling Gilbert's eyes on our intertwined fingers, but his expression stopped me. He looked so much happier when he was close to me…I was sure seeing me with my brother was hurting him. It was worth the hell I would receive just to keep him smiling.

"WEST FOUND A LOVER!" Gilbert burst out laughing. "AND IT'S A MAN!"

I felt my eyebrow twitch, my unoccupied fist tightening angrily. "Quit just screaming out whatever you want!" I scolded. "He is not my lover!"

"_Ve_~, Wiggie? What are you two yelling about? Who is he?" Feliciano wondered.

I hesitated, his curiosity rendering me silent. "Nothing," I muttered, feeling foolish for allowing Gilbert to ignite my temper. "This is Gilbert."

Feliciano gave Gilbert an excited grin. "Your _fratello_? _Ciao~_, Gilbert!"

Even my simple brother, who had been laughing so obnoxiously at me, fell quiet before Feliciano's gentle charm. "Er, West?" he whispered loudly into my ear. "Are you sure it's alright for you to date this guy? He's much more likeable than you! Is that your type?"

"I do not have a 'type'! Feliciano is not my lover nor am I dating him! He is simply someone I rescued when escaping from Auschwitz!" I spat, slamming the door to the house open angrily.

As I did, Berlitz and Blackie, my Doberman and German Shepherd, swarmed the door and jumped wildly, sniffing Feliciano. He gave a pleased giggle, pulling away from me in order to have enough arms to pet the dogs. They licked his face mercilessly, already in love with him. I knew how they felt. It was hard not to like such a person.

"Even your un-awesome mutts like Feliciano better than you!" Gilbert hissed with more laughter, stepping around the commotion.

I ignored him, looking around my childhood home. It had been so long since I'd seen it…everything had changed so quickly. Family photos no longer hung on the walls, everything was strewn about, and I was sure if I looked, I would not be able to find any valuables. The Nazis had done their duty of tearing apart our family. Which reminded me…

"Gilbert, how long have you been living in the house instead of the cellar?" I gave him a savage glare. I was sure I had ordered him to stay down there until I was able to come home again.

He gave me an irritating smirk. "The awesome me got bored of the cellar! Hiding is for little loser babies!"

"I do not care if you think it is for losers! Do you want to be killed like our mother was?"

"Hey, West, did you escape from that camp just to nag the awesome me to death?" he snickered, pulling a can of beer out of the refrigerator and throwing it at me, before taking one out for himself. He took a long, disgusting gulp, before adding, "Because it's working! Does your Italian want some beer?"

"He is not my Italian." I turned to the man, who was still playing with the dogs, rolling on the floor with them and giggling when they attacked his face. He really was childish. "No… Where did you get this beer, anyway?"

"I hid it from those brainless Nazis! It was down in the cellar and they broke in to steal it, but my awesome brain thought faster than theirs! I took the beer and snuck around them!"

My eyebrows furrowed. "They broke into the cellar? When you were hiding down there?"

He nodded. "Lucky for us, I am awesomely smart! They didn't know what hit them!"

I had almost lost him. Despite how irritating he was, the thought shook me up. If I had come home to an empty house, what would I have done? He was all the family I had left in this world, and even his narcissism could not stop the relief flooding through me. We had to get out of here quickly, before those fears could become a reality. I hadn't even known how close I'd come to never being able to see this big-headed fool again. The pain and regret for Feliciano grew with every thought I had of Gilbert, the image of his twin always looming in the back of my mind. How could I have given up so easily? Would it really have been so awful to have tried to save both Feliciano and Lovino? He had been an unnecessary sacrifice, one I would never forget for the rest of my life. Somehow, even though I had been saving Feliciano as ordered, Lovino was still haunting me.

"We are going to America," I said, meeting my brother's maroon gaze. "We must leave this place."

He took another sip of his beer, smacking his lips before announcing, "The awesome me wants to go to Canada!"

I stared at him hard, wondering if he was just saying that to aggravate me. "Feliciano and I are going to America. After that, you can do whatever you please."

"But Canada is so much more awesome!" he protested.

"Do you even have a reason?" I asked, unable to keep my eyes off of Feliciano as he chased the dogs around.

He smirked. "Flat cakes! And maple syrup!"

I should have known that his reasoning would not be sound. "You are going to Canada…for food?"

"_Awesome _food!" he said, his grin widening. "What is West's reason for going to America?"

I was speechless. How could I admit to him that it was because Feliciano had asked me to? My face flushed. "I…wanted to get out of Europe."

"Liar! Kesesese~!" He gave me an arrogant look. "The awesome me can see right through you with his x-ray vision! It's for that guy! It's for the Italian! West is in love!"

"You are obnoxious and loud." I studied my brother, wondering why I felt that something was different about him. He seemed to be in relatively good health for someone who had been hiding in a cellar for the majority of his life and had been sick throughout his childhood. Though he had always been a bit on the scrawny side…it seemed he had lost a bit of weight, but that wasn't it.

"He didn't deny it! West is in love with the Italian!" he teased, though I was barely paying attention now.

Suddenly, I realized. "Your canary. What happened to the canary that always sits on your head?"

"The awesome Gilbird is off on an important mission, delivering my god-like words to Francis and Antonio!" he explained. "Francis has been to Canada and-"

"Did he say Antonio, _ve~_?" Feliciano wondered, coming over to us. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo from Spain?"

The look in his eyes was frantic, like this was something very important to him.

Gilbert frowned. "How does he know the awesome Toni's name? Ask him, West!"

I tried to read Feliciano's expression, but could not understand. "Uh, _ja_, Gilbert is wondering how you know Antonio."

Suddenly, tears sprung up in the Italian boy's eyes and he started shaking, his whole body trembling as if the Spaniard's name had brought up suppressed horrors. Unsure what else to do, I awkwardly took his hand in mine and held it. "Who is he to you?" I asked again, trying to be gentle with him.

Instead of answering, he just pressed into my chest, sobbing miserably.

"H-Hey, why is he crying?" Gilbert asked, gaping at the scene, dumbfounded.

I was just as confused as him, holding the crying man.

"Wiggie…T-Toni… doesn't…he doesn't kn-know!" Feliciano wailed, confusing me further.

"What does he not know?" I knew pressing him when he was clearly upset was insensitive, but I wanted to understand just as much as Gilbert did.

He looked up, his face tear-streaked and pink. "Toni is…was…" he choked on the word, "Lovi's boyfriend…He doesn't know Lovi's dead, Wiggie!" He broke down again, clinging to me.

I wrapped my arms around him this time, understanding now. "Gilbert."

"What is going on? The awesome me doesn't understand!"

"Gilbert, you must write another message to Antonio," I said calmly, brushing my hand through Feliciano's hair. "Tell him that…Lovino did not make it. Let him know that Lovino won't be coming home."

As if understanding my words, Feliciano fell to pieces.


	10. Gilbird's Note

**Hey :D So i can't really think of anything to write, other than forgive my lack of knowledge on wartime appliances and such...i did my best to stay accurate, but i'm sure i didn't. I'd appreciate it if you guys just went along with it! And I hope you enjoy reading, despite the difficulty i had writing~ :) Thanks, as always!**

I stepped into the spray of warm water gratefully, amazed that the plumbing had not suffered any extensive damage throughout the war. It felt incredible on my filthy, ice-torn body, thawing out the sections of frozen skin that I had been sure I would never be able to feel again. Sighing in relief as the numbness washed away, I ran shampoo through my hair and rinsed it out quickly, breathing in the cleanly scent. It had been too long since I had last showered; I was disturbed by the amount of grime that now seemed layered into me. Scrubbing at the dirt absently, I stared down in a daze as the tub beneath me became sheathed in darkness, the muck draining too slowly to give the water a chance to clear again.

Just as I had suspected, Feliciano had been suffering.

I couldn't wipe away the memory of his anguished face, no matter how much I tried. The tears he had shed had brought me indescribable guilt, disgust for the way things had happened. My selfishness had hurt him, though it had all been to preserve his happiness. At Auschwitz, I had been too blinded by the urgent desire to save Feliciano to realize that, perhaps, the only reason he had behaved as he did was because he had had his brother there to comfort him, to put the smile on his face. Now I could see that it was the love of others that brought him his joy.

I slammed a fist into the wall of the bathroom, despising myself. How could I have been so illogical? It was not something I was used to, acting on pure emotion. And in doing that, I had let Feliciano down. Scowling, I turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist hastily. Leaving Feliciano alone with Gilbert for any period of time unnerved me, though I was sure even he wouldn't try anything after he had seen the expression on the Italian's face. Just as I suspected, walking into the bedroom we had shared as children, Gilbert was nowhere to be seen.

Feliciano was sitting up on my bed, curled in on himself and trembling. Sometime while I had been in the shower he had removed his clothes, though I could not even begin to guess why. I could still count the ribs in his side, see his bones jutting out abnormally from the starvation he had endured. It was difficult to keep my eyes on him, but he had turned to me when I had entered. I repressed a shiver at the emptiness that had returned to his eyes, a hopelessness that turned my body ice cold.

"Wiggie," he said, his voice hollow. "I don't feel very good."

I was speechless, trying to conjure words that wouldn't come. How much more could I take before I drowned in remorse for my actions? It was already driving me half-mad.

He kept his gaze on me, watching me without honestly seeing me. His skin was still covered in filth, his hair hanging limply with grease, the only exception being one curly hair that always seemed to stick out, no matter what. I looked down to my feet, hiding my grimace. I had offered him a shower first, but he had panicked and refused, saying all he wanted was a nap. It wasn't hard to understand why, though his fear of being gassed brought me undeniable chagrin.

"You need to shower," I said finally. "You will get sick again if you do not keep clean."

His eyes widened, frightened again. Shaking his head, he whimpered, "B-but it's scary..."

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "You do not have to be afraid," I muttered, struggling to put into words how I felt. "I…I would never hurt you. I just do not want you to get sick again…I…" How could I ever explain to him how afraid I was of losing him? It would only make me sound weak.

"Wiggie's worried about me, _ve~_?" he asked, life seeping back into his tone.

I furrowed my eyebrows, placing my head in my hand. "_Ja_."

He gave a small smile, crawling over and sitting beside me. "Wiggie, do you love me?"

My face heated up and my heart took off nervously in my chest. Why was he asking such a thing now of all times? Did he expect me to just say yes? I looked away from him, trying to calmly act as if his question hadn't completely shaken me. "…I will not harm you. Now go and take a shower."

He took my hand, grinning up at me. "I love you, too, _ve~_!"

He loved me… It was a stretch to believe such a thing, and yet I could not help but be happy at the prospect. Despite not deserving him, he had chosen me. "Stop putting words in my mouth. Now go do what I said."

"But, Wiggie! Your face got all red!" he giggled, throwing his arms around me. "I know you love me~!"

Embarrassed, I couldn't bring myself to say a word. He had seen it all, despite my attempts to cover it up. Absent-minded as he seemed, his perception was impressive. I cursed myself for being so easy to read.

Snuggling into my side, his bare skin was warm and electrifying against mine. "Your heart is beating so fast, _ve_~! Do you want to kiss me now, Wiggie?"

Flustered by the turn the conversation had taken, I gently unhooked Feliciano's arms from around me and stood, hurrying over to my closet and pulling on some clothes, willing my frantic heart to calm itself. What was he trying to do to me? The way he had been looking at me just then…I shook myself, trying not to picture it. I needed to get ahold of myself. Taking a deep breath, I went back into the room to find Feliciano still sitting where I had left him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and humming.

I flushed again the instant I laid eyes on him. "Feliciano."

He looked up at me, smiling happily. "_Ve~, _Wiggie!"

I placed a new set of clothes down for him, though I knew they would be too large for his skinny figure. "You must go and take a shower," I ordered, "Or put clean clothes on. It is not safe to run around naked during winter…" I hesitated. "Why are you naked anyway?"

"I was sleeping, _ve~_!" he said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

"It is the middle of winter! Do you want to freeze to death in your sleep?!" I yelled, grabbing a shirt from the pile of clothes and yanking it on him.

It hung loosely off his shoulders, reaching down to his thighs. He flapped the too-long sleeves around like he could fly, giving me a cheery grin. "But Wiggie, _ve~…_I thought you were going to keep me warm like last night!"

I stared at him, recalling him pulled tightly against me, in my arms. I had been trying to protect him from hypothermia then…now, there were blankets and warm clothes to achieve that goal. He didn't need me to hold him. "I will not," I informed him gruffly, glancing over to Gilbert's empty bed.

His face fell with disappointment. "You're so warm, Wiggie…it feels nice and cozy, like home."

It was something I had noticed as well, the feel of his smaller body against mine a natural, comfortable feeling. It had pleased me so much that I had even fallen asleep effortlessly while on guard duty, something I had been sure I could never do. Looking at his melancholy face now, I knew that there was no way I would be able to deny him twice. I wanted to have him beside me just as much as he wanted me there for him.

I crossed my arms and threw myself down on the pillow, looking away from him awkwardly. He cuddled up beside me, until his face was even with mine and I had no choice but to meet his eyes. They were melting with happiness, my favorite smile on his face as he shifted as close to me as he could get. I swallowed, ignoring the knee-jerk reaction to turn away, and hugged him into me, flushed and consciously aware that he had never put on pants. He giggled again.

"Wiggie, your face is so funny!" he said.

I grunted, trying to make my face less…funny. Feliciano just laughed more and played with my hair.

"I like your hair down, _ve~_! It makes you look more huggable," he told me, squeezing me tightly.

"I do not want to be huggable," I growled, keeping my face stiff and expressionless. "When I leave it down, it gets in my face."

He fell quiet, and for a moment I thought he had fallen asleep. His breathing was even and calming, the feeling between us gently lulling me into darkness. But as I closed my eyes, he fidgeted, his nose brushing my face, and before I could register that, he had pressed his lips softly against mine. My lids flew open in shock, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away from me and end this. In fact, my arm seemed to move on its own, fingers tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He made a pleased noise deep in his throat that faltered my heartbeat. How could any man ever be this attractive? I didn't trust these feelings for a second… and yet I wanted to feel more, the sensation of having him near to me dangerously addictive.

It was almost so distracting that I didn't hear the front door creak open, its hinges in desperate need of oil. But my well-trained senses could not be dulled by even the most blinding of human desires and I sat up quickly, pulling Feliciano behind me so I could hide him from view just as someone entered the room. Tensing, I prepared for a fight.

"West? Why is it so dark in here?! The awesome me can't see anything!"

I sighed with relief as my brother flicked on the light, my muscles relaxing again. "Some of us were planning on sleeping," I informed him, eyeing the bags he carried.

He took one look at Feliciano and me before bursting into his Gilbert-brand, infuriating laughter. "Oh, yeah, you look like you were planning on sleeping! The awesome me can see right through your wimpy pretense!"

Feliciano peeked over my shoulder. "_Ve~, _welcome home, Gilbert!"

Gilbert looked at him uncomprehendingly. I rolled my eyes at his stupidity and stood, going over and taking the bags he held. Peeking in, I could see that he had done something responsible for once and obtained all the food he had been able to. The majority of it would need to be eaten quickly, but it seemed he had also prepared some canned food for our journey to America. So he did have a brain in that narcissistic, thick head of his.

"I told you not to leave the house." I scowled darkly, losing my patience. "How the hell did you obtain this food without getting caught and how much money do we have left?" I asked, not entirely sure if I wanted to hear the answer. If we needed to bribe people to get to America, it would help to have something to pay them with.

He swelled up proudly. "The awesome me is a ninja! He was not seen by anybody because he slunk through the shadows, unseen and unheard as he snuck up to the shops and swiped the food with his awesome might!" He smirked, before pulling out his wallet and frowning into it. "Oh…and we are almost broke. I asked Toni and Francis for more, but they were bank fucked too!"

"You stole and asked your friends for money? Of all the ridiculous…" I rubbed my temples, irritated by his presence. "Urgh. Nevermind. Listen, I have already formulated the way to get to America and it is going to be difficult. We are going to have to travel to an Allied port, most likely in France, and once there we will wait for a United States ship to dock in order to deliver supplies. Then we must sneak onto the boat and hide. This…this is something that will require even you to have a clear head if it is to work."

Gilbert looked personally offended by this sentiment. "My head is always awesome and it is always clear! That's why I was the one to think of getting groceries!" He gave an amused cackle.

I glared at him. "If you are so awesome, then why did you not think to put said stolen merchandise in the refrigerator? Do you want to waste it?"

He faltered, his cocky smile wavering as he struggled to come up with a retort. Thankfully, we were both saved from whatever idiotic comment was about to pass his lips as the Gilbird flew in through a broken window pane, squawking his head off. Gilbert dropped the food carelessly, running over to his precious bird.

"It's the awesome Gilbird!" he chirruped, dancing around and catching the canary out of the air. "Gilbird, you will never guess what West has been up to at Auschwitz! He's fucking a man now! A little girly Italian man! Kesesesese~!"

I grit my teeth, picking up the bags and placing them in the icebox, feeling the urge to strangle my brother just so I would not have to deal with him on our escape. Instead, though, I ignored him and went back into the room, finding Feliciano had already fallen fast asleep. Leaning in the doorway, I couldn't help but smile at his narcolepsy, the way he had pulled the pillow into his arms to cuddle. He was very much like a child.

"The awesome me got a note from Francis!" Gilbert announced, right in my ear.

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked patiently, stroking Blackie's head as he came up beside me.

He studied the note, written in French, meticulously, his eyes widening as he continued on. Finally, with a stricken expression, he looked up to me.

Suddenly nervous, I grabbed him by the shoulders. "What? What is it? Spit it out!"

"The awesome me… doesn't speak French!"

Unable to help myself, I punched him hard in the arm and stole the note. "Idiot! How have you been communicating with Francis and Antonio if you cannot understand them?!"

He rubbed his arm, giving me an injured chuckle. "They have been speaking in the awesome and understandable German until now!"

I read over the note, though my French was weak as well. If Francis had been writing in German, what had happened to change that? Perhaps he simply felt like messing with my brother, freaking him out. Or…could it be something more serious? It was possible that this was his way of coding his words because something had happened. France had fallen under Hitler's regime…it was likely that he was concerned about Gilbert's safety in passing notes that were so easily understood. Of course, he should have taken into account that my brother was a total dumbass and had flunked out of many subjects in school. Our education had been the best available as a wealthier family, but Gilbert had wasted our parents' efforts.

I re-read the words carefully.

_Hello! I received your note, mon ami, and I have found somebody who would be willing to take you in if you escape to Canada! He is a very welcoming (ohonononono~) individual and I am sure you would enjoy your time with him in every way~! His name is Matthew Williams and he lives in Ottawa, Ontario. So send your little birdy with an answering note to Ontario and Pierre #14 will take it to Mattie right away! _

_You're welcome and try to play nice ~,_

_Francis Bonnefoy (kiss kiss!)_

I stared at the words in disbelief. Gilbert had already been planning an escape on his own, before I had even appeared. He even had had the foresight to plan where he would stay after he got to Canada.

"What? What does the awesome Francis have to say?!" Gilbert wondered.

"He says that he has found you someone to stay with in Canada…Gilbert, how long have you been planning to leave here?" I found myself more than surprised by his maturity, despite the deeper, more disturbing meaning behind the message.

He looked at me, then back down at the note. "He found someone?! Who?! The awesome me must know!"

"Answer my question! You were going to leave to Canada on your own?"

"Francis told the awesome me that he should escape so he did not get caught, but I did not know where to go! So he told me that Canada was a good place and that he would talk to someone he knew there to see if they would be willing to take the awesome me in! And he said yes, right, West? He said yes?" His eyes were bright with excitement.

I exhaled. "Much to my annoyance and dismay, he did. Poor man does not know what he is going to have to deal with."

"WOOOOOO!" he yelled, grabbing onto my shirt and cackling. "Let's leave now, West! Let's go to America tonight!"

I pushed him off, the dogs at my feet growling, as if sensing my annoyance. "The note also says that you must contact him first. His name is Matthew Williams. Besides, you have another message to write, remember? The one to Antonio."

His energy drained, his expression now unsure. "Why does the awesome me have to? Why can't you get the Italian to give him the news? Writing sad stories makes my awesome eyes wet."

I glared at him, but I couldn't deny that he had a point. It was possible that hearing it from Feliciano would mean more to him, make the situation more real. We owed him that much. In fact, I owed him so much more than just a miserable letter…However, I could never give him anything that would make up for his lover's life. All I could do was regret it every day for the rest of my life.

"Fine," I grumbled, giving in. "But I will not wake him up tonight. He deserves sleep after the day he has had."

"Whatever! The awesome me must write back to Matthew Williams!" Gilbert sat down, scribbling his sloppy script onto a piece of paper. "Dear….awesome…Matthew…you…are….sex-"

I sat down beside him, stealing the paper from him before he could screw up any further. "You…He lives in Canada. It is likely that he speaks only English and French. How are you going to communicate with him once you get to Canada?"

Gilbert's brows furrowed as he thought, the gears in his head practically visibly turning. "West will come to Canada with me and translate!" he announced finally.

It wasn't a horrible idea. Feliciano had said he wanted to see America together with me…I would do everything in my power to make that wish come true. But for now, it was much more strategic to go with Gilbert to Canada, where there was already shelter set. We could stay with Gilbert until I earned enough money to support both me and Feliciano. Then, once I had paid Matthew for his care, we would go and live in America.

"If Matthew does not mind taking us all, then…I suppose we will go with you." I glanced over at the bedroom where Feliciano slept, oblivious that I was deciding his future for him. "But you must learn English while we are there, you idiot. I doubt they will take kindly to an egotistical German fool. In fact, I doubt they will take kindly to a German, regardless."

"The awesome me will butter them up like Canadian toast!" Gilbert snickered. "Immigration is for the sexy!"

I shook my head at him, but I couldn't help the small smile that flickered across my lips. For the first time, I was not dreading tomorrow, something I would have never been able to say at Auschwitz. After so much heartbreak, I had finally succeeded in giving Feliciano hope for his future. All we had to do now was survive.


	11. Hotwire

**Hello everyone! This chapter ended up taking much longer than i'd hoped, but there was something i really wanted to get in there...and i still didn't ^^ Oh well, it'll be there next time. I did the best i could, though i'm sure some things are wrong... Well, I hope you like it regardless of that and please enjoy~ :D**

The morning light trickled through the blackout curtains over the windows in miniscule sections, bathing the room in slivers of golden sun. Groggily, I opened my eyes to find Feliciano tucked closely in beside me, his sleeping face illuminated by the glow. His reddish-brown hair was strewn wildly across my pillow, cheeks pink and dimpled as he smiled at something I couldn't see. I was relieved that he was having good dreams.

I had spent the whole night tossing anxiously, the images behind my lids unspeakable. I couldn't seem to suppress images as Feliciano could, those bodies piled up high, burning alive as they were deemed useless to the cause, families watching as flesh caught fire and turned to ash… It made me sick to my stomach, my dreams tinged with blood. It was a relief that he was spared from seeing these things, that he was able to grin with such ease. I stroked his hair, watching his expression brighten with the feel of my hand.

"Wiggie…" he murmured in his sleep.

Yawning, I un-wrapped his arms from around my torso and stood, unable to help but glance at Gilbert, too. His sleeping face was much less pleasant to view than Feliciano's; he was drooling and snoring loudly, his body half hanging off the bed. It seemed he could do nothing quietly. I struggled to remember if he had always been this ridiculous, if he had been unable to stay quiet for a moment. Yes, there were several memories of Gilbert desperately seeking our parents' attention as a young child, acting out in all sorts of backwards ways just to get our father to scold him.

He had grown up quite a bit since then. I recalled last night and his maturity in obtaining things I had not even thought of. Then, of course, we had written a message to Matthew asking if he would accept all three of us into his home. Despite his answer, we would be leaving today. There would be no more delay. Staying in one spot for so long was driving me mad, and the possibility of Feliciano getting injured by a bomb raid was still very real. It wasn't just the Nazis that we were in danger of. The sooner we escaped, the better it would be.

Aster trotted up to me, setting his head on my lap with a sigh. He glanced up at me with wondering brown eyes and whimpered. I stroked his golden fur, the other two dogs still sleeping soundly on the sofa. I sighed at the sight of them, their fur getting all over the cushions. Gilbert had been too lenient on them while I was gone, allowing them to do what they pleased. I would have to speak with him about that later. Sitting at the table staring at them, I suddenly wondered how we were going to get three humans, three dogs, and one annoying bird on a boat without attracting the notice of others. It would be difficult, despite the fact that I was more concerned about my brother being loud than my dogs.

As I sat there contemplating, something crashed into the window in front of me with a loud bang. More startled than anything, I stood and opened it quickly, peering out with suspicion. Nothing. Were we being attacked? It was possible, but it hadn't sounded like that sort of noise, as the glass had remained completely intact. In fact, it had sounded similar to a bird colliding with…I looked down to the ground, a yellow blob lying still and unmoving in the grass. In its beak was a note, written with neat, English script. Could Gilbird have gone to Canada and back so quickly?

I walked out the back door, picking up the unconscious canary and bringing him inside. His tiny heart pounded frantically against my fingers as I lay him down in the makeshift nest Gilbert had made out of a scarf and pulled the note out of his mouth. Sitting back down, I read it over easily.

_Dear Gilbert, _

_I hope you get this message…Um, I would be glad to help your brother and his friend out, too. I'll do my best to do whatever I can to help you guys stay safe. I'm sorry I don't know German, Francis told me you don't speak English, so I hope you can understand this somehow…Oh, by the way, I think your bird is really cute!_

_Please be careful,_

_Matthew _

I looked at said "cute" bird as he gave a squawk and got to his feet shakily, as if prepared to send another letter. Conflicted, I took out another piece of paper and started to address it to Antonio. I had told Gilbert that Feliciano would be the one to tell him…But bringing up Lovino's death would only upset him again, when he was finally smiling. I couldn't bring myself to do that to him. If I wrote the note, what would it mean to Antonio when I explained? How could I just tell someone who had likely loved Lovino that he had died at my hand? I couldn't say he died peacefully. I couldn't say he felt no pain. I couldn't say anything that might bring this man even the tiniest of relief. Lovino's death had been a violent, painful one. Struggling over the words, I gripped my pen hard.

"It's the ever-awesome Gilbird!" Gilbert yelled, running over to where he stood and scooping him up. "Did you bring a message?"

"He did," I said, handing him the paper. "He also ran into the window."

Gilbert looked down at the ball of yellow in his hands. "Are you hurt?! The awesome me already told you! The sexy canary you see in the glass is NOT a hot girly bird, it's your reflection!"

The Gilbird gave a chirp of protest.

"No, he is the awesome you!"

"Enough!" I cut off the conversation and pointed to the note Gilbert held. "Matthew said that he will take us all in. Also, he thinks your bird is cute."

Gilbert's eyes brightened. He snickered and whispered not-so-quietly to his bird, "The awesome me is gonna score!"

"Do not take advantage of the man who was kind enough to give us a home to stay in," I scolded, tucking my letter to Antonio in a pocket. "He seems like a very gentle man, from his manner of speaking. Now, it is time to figure out how we are going to get to a port in France. I do not believe we can walk that far without being noticed. We need transportation…a car of some kind."

Gilbert smiled wickedly. "Already taken care of by the awesome me's genius! Go wake up the Italian and I can show you!"

Again, I was startled by how far he had planned this. He even had a car ready. I did question where the vehicle had come from, but without money…there was nothing else we could do. I went to the bedroom, sitting on the bed and shaking him gently.

"Feliciano. Wake up," I muttered.

He just sighed and turned away, mumbling something similar to "Pasta…"

Giving an impatient grunt, I shook him again, a little harder. "Feliciano, you must wake up. We have to get moving quickly."

Again, he stirred slightly, but his eyes remained closed.

It was impossible. Frustrated, I sat back and studied him, the way the light seemed to make him glow even brighter than before, his presence itself like the comforting warmth of a sunny day. I reached over and stroked his hair again, as I had this morning. Despite the fact that he had refused to clean himself, it was still soft and light, though greasy. He exhaled comfortably, moving into my touch…his curl grazed the side of my hand. I studied the piece of hair wonderingly. Why was it not straight, like the rest was? Tentatively, I tried to smooth it down against his head.

Feliciano's eyes popped open with a small gasp, his cheeks burning red and his body trembling. He looked at me, his expression wounded, as if I had done something horrible.

"Uh…" Inexplicably, I felt embarrassed by his reaction. "We are leaving now…so please put on some pants and join us in the kitchen." Stiffly, I stood and left the room, my heart racing uncomfortably.

I sat down next to my brother, trying to keep my face neutral despite my confusion. I had simply tried to brush his hair down. Why had he given me such an expression? It was almost as if I had…as if I had…touched him in some sexual way. My face heated up at the very thought, the possibility. Had I just done something unforgivable?

"WEST! YOUR FACE!" Gilbert shrieked. "IT'S ALL RED!"

I scowled at him darkly, but before I got the chance to speak, Feliciano entered the room. His face was still flushed lightly, and though he appeared to avoid meeting my eyes, a smile still stretched his lips. He looked at us expectantly. "Good morning, _ve~_!"

"What?!" Gilbert asked.

"Do you not understand even the most basic of English phrases? He said good morning," I hissed. "How do you expect to survive in an English-speaking country?" I shook my head in exasperation, rubbing the stress from my temples. "That aside, we must get moving now. Gilbert, you will need to find something that will cover you completely before we leave. Feliciano and I will gather the bags while you do and then we can take them to the car."

Gilbert looked at Feliciano, then back at me with a suggestive smirk before dancing into the other room. "Kesesesese~! I will wear West's thickest jacket!"

Feliciano had already started digging through the refrigerator, packing the food that we hadn't already eaten into the bags. Nervously, I edged closer and began to help him, afraid that he would give me the look he had before. Instead, he grinned up at me and handed me the cans, acting normally once again. I packed the bags slowly, meticulously, unable to slow my racing thoughts. Had I imagined the whole situation? After all, it had only been one piece of hair. How could it have had such an effect on him? It was impossible.

"Wiggie?" His voice was still bright and cheery. "What will the doggies eat?"

Surprised, I looked to the dogs, who were now playing in the living room. "They will hunt," I answered simply, knowing that each and every one of my canines was capable. "I have trained them to."

"_Ve~_, okay! They're so smart!" He fell quiet for a moment, thinking. "Wiggie? When we get to America, can we get another doggy? I want to raise a puppy!"

I paused, halfway through the second bag. "A puppy…It sounds fun." I imagined a baby Dachshund rolling around in grass, Feliciano giggling as he rubbed its belly. It was a relaxing picture, one that brought with it the relief I had been waiting for. If I could save him from this stress someday, maybe it could even be a reality. For now, we had to focus on escaping Europe.

"The awesome me is cloaked!" Gilbert came back into the room, wearing a dark blue, old cloak that I had seen once before. It was filthy, covered in dust and residue, and I instantly recognized it as another thing my father had given to me before he had died. I had never been able to find a use for the thing, so it had lain in my closet, untouched, for years.

I wondered briefly if my father realized that he had given his children a blessing.

"Perfect. We have also finished packing the food," I answered, placing the last can in. "Take some bags. Feliciano, I leave you in charge of getting the dogs to come with us." I grabbed the majority of the baggage, not wanting to leave anything for Feliciano to have to carry. Despite the fact that he was slowly recovering, I did not want him to do labor. I remembered the him from not so long ago, weakly shoving his shovel into hardened, dry soil, trying desperately to move quickly for the sake of his life. I had given him such horrible bruises…

Shuddering, I followed as my brother led us outside into the day. I heard the dogs panting close behind and the sound of Feliciano's humming as he padded after us, his soft footfalls in the dirt. Gilbert led us deep into the forest, struggling to keep his footing and carry the burden in his arms, his Gilbird the only thing keeping him from faceplanting as it called out directions to him. Soon, we came upon a clearing, where a rickety vehicle sat, beaten and rusty. It wasn't much to look at, but it was rare enough to own a car…we were lucky.

"And this works?" I asked, approaching the machine warily.

"Of course! The awesome me has been taking her for joy rides around the forest!" Gilbert strutted right up to it, pulling open a back door and shoving the bags he had held inside.

I walked up beside him, placing my groceries inside carefully before grabbing my brother by the shirt. "Did the words 'stay inside' mean nothing to you when I said them? Did you have a death wish? You cannot always go around doing what you please." I released him roughly, shoving him away. "Now, where are the keys?"

Gilbert snickered, rubbing the spot where I had grabbed him. "Keys? The awesome me doesn't need keys to get this thing to go! He just needs to mess with the wires!" He pulled himself under the steering wheel, playing with something, and soon the car roared to life. "See? You can thank me later for the sexy ride, West!"

"Somehow, I do not think I will," I muttered under my breath. Louder, I said, "I will be driving. Let's get the dogs in the car and get moving."

Shaking his head in protest, Gilbert jumped into the driver's seat. "The awesome me will drive! He knows the ways of the road~!"

"You…." I growled in annoyance, but moved to help Feliciano with Blackie, Berlitz, and Aster.

When we were done, I was surprised to feel Feliciano's hand slip into mine. His eyes bore into me, sweet like honey. "_Ve~, _Wiggie! Let's go make a home together, okay? Gilbert can stay, too! It'll be fun to have a big, happy family again! And we can eat lots of yummy food, and see lots of pretty things together!"

It was these naïve, childish things that he said that brought me hope. I squeezed his hand back and nodded. "_Ja_." Remembering the unfinished note to Antonio in my pocket, I looked away. It felt red-hot sitting there, burning me with guilt and lies. "But before we get to America, we are going to stay with a…friend…of Gilbert's in Canada. We are going to need time to earn money. Once we have enough, we will go to America, just like we planned."

He gave me an elated grin and hugged me. "I don't care where we go, _ve~_! As long as you're there, Wiggie, I'm home!"

I blinked at him, willing the warmth in my cheeks away before Feliciano could see. Unable to fight the embarrassment, I pushed the Italian into the back of the car with the dogs, turning abruptly. How did he expect me to be able to look him in the eye after he said such things? His words always struck me helplessly…he never failed to make my heart pound. Bewildered, I no longer felt like arguing with Gilbert, who was wagging his eyebrows at me.

"You cannot drive," I told him calmly. "If we get caught, you will be killed immediately. You both must hide in the back. Stay low."

Feliciano crouched low obediently, giggling as Aster started licking his face.

My brother, however, was not so easily swayed. He put his feet up on the dashboard, chortling stupidly to himself. "I will not move! The awesome me knows the back way into France!" The Gilbird settled down in his hair, chirping backup.

I cracked my knuckles, glowering down at him. "There is no back way into France. Move or be moved. It is your choice."

He blew out a breath, looking up at me haughtily, though there was definitely insecurity in his eyes. "G-Good! The awesome me didn't really feel like driving anyway! It would tire out my awesome eyes!" As if he'd won, he stood up and went to the back, walking proudly past me.

I got into the driver's seat, sighing, and checked my mirrors. Finding everything was set correctly, I shifted into drive and we rolled forward. Turning onto a road, I quickly got my bearings as I drove; the familiar feel of a car beneath me was comforting, despite the fact that I was surrounded by Nazi soldiers on all sides. No one's eyes lingered for more than a few seconds as we passed, the citizens of Berlin more concerned about their safety than an old, beaten car driving down the street. The closer I came to leaving the city, the more relaxed I started to feel. Escaping Berlin would be a huge relief, though leaving Germany altogether would be better.

For now, I could only keep moving.

Several hours passed without issue, the ride smooth and quiet. Both Gilbert and Feliciano had fallen asleep within the first thirty minutes, leaving me alone to my thoughts, which I had appreciated. It was easier to think that way. In my mind, I tried to calculate how quickly we would be able to get through France in order to find a port that would be accepting ally supplies from America. If we moved quickly enough…it would not take a full twenty- four hours. And if we stopped in Paris for a rest, it would be slightly less than that, depending on the route. I knew Francis lived somewhere in Paris...perhaps Gilbert could get him to agree to allow us to stay with him one night. Without money, hotels would be useless and it was dangerous to sleep in the car without someone keeping watch. I was already tiring, and we had only just reached the outskirts of Frankfurt.

Rubbing my eyes, I glanced in the rearview mirror at Feliciano and Gilbert quickly. They were curled up on the backseat in the pile of dogs, everything one giant clump of bodies. The Gilbird sat on top of the mess, cooing peacefully as he slept. It was a ridiculous sight, two grown men and three large dogs shoved together with a bird as they were. I couldn't help but smile.

When the trip reached around nine hours, Gilbert finally stirred and awoke, yawning forcefully. He smacked his lips, looking around with confusion. "Where the hell are we? The awesome me needs to take a piss!"

"We are almost to France," I answered, too exhausted to be annoyed by him. "If you need to stop, then I will stop."

Feliciano, hearing us, woke up as well. "_Ve~, _good morning, Wiggie!"

"The awesome me is going to pee his awesome pants!" Gilbert whined.

Well, there went my peace. I pulled over to the side of the road, seeing some trees, and Gilbert flew out, not even bothering to hide himself before peeing. I got out as well, stretching my legs, and Feliciano followed with the dogs on his tail. I had cramped painfully from sitting still too long, the aches from running away from Auschwitz intensifying. Even the bullet wound on my arm, which had healed for the most part, was burning painfully. I sat down on the snow, feeling like an old man for the first time in my life. Aster, who had been chasing Berlitz around, came over and nudged me, gingerly licking my throbbing arm wound.

Feliciano came over and sat beside me, taking my hand like it was a habit. "You look so sleepy," he said, frowning. "Don't work too hard, Wiggie! It's bad for your body!"

"We are running away. I do not have time to worry about working too hard or my body." I lay back, gazing blearily at the stars in the sky.

Gilbert, finally done peeing, peered over me with that cocky smirk on his face. "You're holding hands! The awesome me knew it! He's your lover! You're fucking him! Hahahahaha!"

Aster growled at him, but I couldn't find the energy. "Fine. What if I was? At least I would be a step ahead of you."

There was a type of brotherly satisfaction as I watched his expressions change rapid-fire, all arrogance gone as he struggled for a response. Finally, regaining his ego, he laughed. "The awesome me has fucked many women in his life! He doesn't need just one!"

"Sleeping around may give you temporary satisfaction, but when you find a person you actually care about…it makes you so much happier," I murmured, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth of Feliciano's hand around mine.

For once, Gilbert didn't retaliate or harass me. Of course. He had been searching for that feeling with every woman he had slept with, though I was sure his pride would never allow him to admit such a thing. I knew he was only jealous that his little brother had beaten him to it. I stood, pulling Feliciano up with me, and headed back to the car.

"We are very close to France now," I told Feliciano in English. "If we keep moving, I believe we can make it to Paris. Gilbert has a friend named Francis that lives there. I promise we will stop for a rest if he will allow us to stay."

"Okay, Wiggie. Please don't make yourself sick, _ve~_," Feliciano said, getting back in the car.

I nodded and whistled for the dogs, watching with mild amusement as Gilbert came running, too. He jumped in the passenger's seat and kicked his feet up. "The awesome me wants to see Francis! We are going through Paris, _ja_? Let's go see Francis!"

"Fine," I relented, acting as if I hadn't already thought of that. "But you must get in the back. That's where the other dogs are sitting."


	12. Plaguing Nightmares

**Finally! I was able to finish this chapter! I know it took awhile, but school's back in session for me, so my updates will, unfortunately, be slow for a long time. Anyway, aside from that business, I have a question for my readers: would any of you like to see this story written from Feli's POV? I had a friend offer to write it and i think it would be very interesting to see someone else's take on it :) If you would, i'll be happy to let her know! And that's pretty much it, besides the usual apology about historical accuracy and language messups and whatnot. Hope you still enjoy reading it!**

Paris was a bustling city, crawling with Nazis just as Berlin had been. They seemed to be everywhere I looked, the soldiers an unnerving sight as I drove into the capital warily. It was a good thing I had forced Gilbert to hide again. Seeing just me in the car made it less likely that they would become suspicious and pull us over. I glanced side to side, before risking a peek into the backseat where Feliciano and Gilbert were doing the best they could to be invisible. Both wore fearful expressions as we crept slowly down the road.

I turned back to the street, observing the scene carefully. "Where does Francis live in Paris?" I muttered under my breath, knowing my brother could hear.

He gave me the address, his tone more solemn than I had ever thought possible from him.

I looked from side to side, trying to guess how to navigate. I was not familiar with Paris in the least; its layout was confusing and apartments seemed to loom from every side. How would I ever be able to find any specific one without Gilbert's help?

"West is lost!" Gilbert chuckled airily, trying to keep his voice down. Cautiously and without warning, his cloaked head popped up beside me. "We are almost there! Francis lives around that corner!"

"Gilbert!" I shoved his head down forcefully, ignoring his protests. "Around this corner…okay, when I turn and find a place to park, we will have to move quickly. Do not look anyone in the eye, Gilbert, and keep the cloak around you. Feliciano, I want you to stay close to me, though I doubt anyone will recognize you this far out." I turned down the street, finding a parking spot very easily, and stopped. Turning the car off, I turned to look back at my brother and Feliciano with a dark expression.

Aster, Blackie, and Berlitz jumped up excitedly, as ready to be out of this wretched car as the rest of us. I watched them for a moment, before looking up at the small apartment buildings in front of us. "The dogs…it is likely they are not allowed in there," I stated, realizing. "But we cannot leave them here. They may freeze to death."

It was hard enough to sneak people around. Now I had to deal with sneaking three large sized dogs as well.

"The awesome me didn't mention West's dogs to Francis," Gilbert pointed out unhelpfully.

I shook my head, sighing. After driving for nearly ten hours, everything on me ached sharply. "Well, for now we will leave the dogs. When you and Feliciano are safe, I will decide what to do about them. Come on."

Feliciano pet all their heads, kissing them goodbye. "Goodbye, puppies!" he said, stepping out of the car and coming close to me.

Out of nerves rather than affection, I felt myself grabbing his hand as I dragged both him and Gilbert to the location my brother had pointed out, shoving them through the large, wooden, brass-designed doors hurriedly. Once we were no longer in direct sight, I took a moment to breathe.

"What room?" I demanded of Gilbert.

His bird chirped before he could answer and took to the air, flying up the stairs. Halfway up, he made an impatient noise and spun back to us.

"Gilbird is showing us the way!" He took off after the canary, not bothering to see if Feliciano and I were following.

I scowled at his impatience, but followed after, ignoring the burning that had started up in my gun wound again as I towed Feliciano along after me. I could hear the light, gasping breaths he took as we walked and I had to remind myself to slow down. He was still not in any sort of physical condition to be pushing himself. Neither was I, for that matter. The weakness from our escape still clung to us through the adrenaline; the moment that subsided, we would inevitably crash.

Despite our handicap, we kept up with Gilbert just enough to see his head of gray hair disappear into a doorway as we rounded the corner. Releasing my hold on Feliciano, I took large steps and shoved my hand onto the door just as it began to creak shut and lock us out. I threw it open again, giving both the surprised-looking Frenchman and my ridiculous brother a dirty look as I gestured for Feliciano to go inside. With a smile meant to mask how exhausted he really was, he skipped in.

The moment he stepped into the room, Francis broke into a devilish grin. "_Bonjour_, you little cutie~! What is your name?"

Obediently, he answered without a thought, completely oblivious to the perversion written all over the other man's face. "I'm Feliciano Vargas!"

Francis stared him up and down hungrily, undressing him with his eyes. "_Ohononono~_! Gilbert, you didn't tell me you had a 'pet'! You'll let me play with him for a little while, won't you? How about it, Feli? Don't you want to play with big brother Francis?"

I stomped inside, letting the door slam shut behind me.

Everyone looked up in shock, as if they had forgotten I was standing there. "He does not," I hissed through a tightly clenched jaw, trying to stifle the repulsion I was feeling. "You will not lay a hand on Feliciano."

"Oh! It is Gilbert's baby brother!" Sounding thrilled, he continued, "This adorable little Italian is _your _pet, then? Can it be true?"

Gilbert laughed, butting in. "That's right! He belongs to West! Not the awesome me!"

"So even an overly serious, anal retentive like you has sexual desires for men~! Of course, I always knew it would end up like this, though I had doubted you would have good taste, looking at your wardrobe. But you picked well! Little Feli is such an adorable boytoy~!"

Glowering at the two chortling imbeciles, I stood closer to Feliciano protectively. "Feliciano is not my pet, nor do I own him in any way. However, I will not permit you to touch him."

Francis pouted. "Not even a little?"

"Touch him, you perverted bastard, and I will slice off each of your fingers, one by one, until you are begging for mercy and blood is pouring endlessly from your body."

He took a careful step away from Feliciano. "You make a convincing argument, _mon ami_!" He turned to Feliciano, giving him a flirty wink. "But if you ever decide you want to play with me, let me know~! I would be happy to keep you company!"

Feliciano, who had looked confused throughout the entire conversation, nodded.

I narrowed my eyes at the Frenchman, but let the conversation drop, remembering that I had an important question to ask him. "Francis, I am aware that they do not allow large pets in apartments. However, my three dogs are still in the car and if they stay in there all night, something may happen to them. I would like to ask… May I bring them into the apartment? They are trained very well and will not be a disturbance." It killed me to speak so politely to someone who had just threatened to do sexual things to Feliciano, but in order to care for my dogs, I had no choice.

Francis gave me an arrogant smirk, flourishing dramatically. "Of course, of course! Bring them in! But do not expect me to allow such a thing for free."

I grit my teeth. "I have no money. What do you want?"

He gestured to Feliciano with his eyes. "The price is a night with Feli!"

"Never," I answered bluntly. "Your perversion will not be tolerated when it comes to him."

"Then I guess your little puppies will have to stay in the freezing car all night long!" Francis twirled a lock of wavy blond hair around his finger cockily, as if he'd already won.

Feliciano looked at me, his amber irises soft. "Wiggie, it's okay! I'll stay with Francis tonight. I want the doggies to stay nice and cozy and happy!"

I eyed his pale face, the dark circles under his eyes prominent, and felt my heart give a lurch. I couldn't let him be taken advantage of by anybody. The one thing that hadn't completely left him was his innocence; I would never agree to something that would take that blessing from him. Even if it meant leaving my dogs in the car, as difficult as that was, I would do it for him.

"No," I sighed, sitting down on the sofa next to Gilbert. "The dogs have thick fur…they will be alright."

"But…" His thin eyebrows turned up in concern.

I gazed at him steadily, trying to reassure both him and myself as I spoke, keeping my voice even. "They will be fine. Leaving you with Francis is out of the question. I have gone this far without letting harm befall you and I am certainly not going to stop trying now."

"But Francis isn't a scary Nazi! He wouldn't try to hurt me, _ve~_! He's a friend!"

I shook my head. "Everything is not that black and white. There are enemies all around," I said, looking pointedly at the pervert. "Just promise me you will never be alone with Francis."

"I don't understand… but if that's what you want, Wiggie, then I promise!" Feliciano said, squeezing onto the couch beside me and laying his head on my shoulder. A huge yawn overtook him, his eyelids drooping slowly. "Make sure…the doggies stay…safe…" Within minutes, he was fast asleep, his snoring light and methodic.

Watching him sleep so peacefully, I couldn't help but feel the ten hours of driving, the days of running away, the stress of being responsible for so many lives…before I could even consider what would happen if I closed my eyes, I fell into the pleasant darkness of sleeping, feeling the warmth of the man on my shoulder seep into my bones. Being with Feliciano was always so comfortable.

"West has never slept so long!"

"Perhaps it has something to do with the adorable man strewn across his lap~!"

"_Kesesesese_~, he even looks constipated when he sleeps! Let's stick his hand in warm water and make him piss his pants!"

I listened to the voices groggily, unpleased by what they were saying. "As if that simple trick would ever work on me," I muttered, opening my eyes to a dark, cloudy day.

Could that mean more snow? A delay was the last thing we needed.

Gilbert laughed again. "It did! The awesome me used to do it to you all the time when you were a little boy!"

I recalled the repeated memory of waking up soaking wet as a child, and feeling so disappointed in myself…until I realized it was just water Gilbert had dropped all over the bed. "I never peed the bed. You always tripped halfway on that loose floorboard and dropped the warm water on me." I looked around the room, remembering that I had fallen asleep with Feliciano last night. He was stretched across the couch now, his head resting on my lap, eyes still closed.

Then, just as Gilbert started to argue with me again, I moved Feliciano's head and popped to my feet. I had to go check on the dogs. Opening the front door, I turned back to Gilbert and Francis. "Do not wake him up. Do not touch him. Do not play ridiculous pranks on him. I will be right back."

I hurried downstairs, taking them two at a time, until I exited through the brass-decorated door and ran to the car. Three dogs' heads popped up as I approached, their tails wagging happily back and forth, even though it was quite cold outside. Exhaling in relief, I threw the car open for them to go to the bathroom just as it started to snow again.

I looked up, watching the flakes dance in the light breeze. Already, I was restless to get moving again, to make it to Canada and not have to watch Gilbert and Feliciano's every movement. A place where they could be free to live and never be penalized for what they were. I ushered the dogs back into the car and all but sprinted back up the stairs, anxiety pulsing through me with every step I took. Coming across Francis's door, I gave a forceful knock.

It flew open almost immediately, a young woman exiting and barely missing my face as she stormed away. I watched her twitch down the hallway before peeking inside the room, mystified. Could I have gotten the wrong apartment…? I had no recallable memory of Francis bringing home any sort of woman last night, yet there he was, standing there with a glass of red wine in one hand and a creepy smile on his face.

"She was quite the interesting lady, _non, _Gilbert?" he chuckled, elbowing my brother. "Such a bad attitude, but so very fuckable~."

"_Ja, _but the awesome me prefers blondes!"

Francis shook his long hair dramatically, giving Gilbert puppy eyes. "Like _moi_? Would you like to fuck me, Gilbert?"

Gilbert hissed laughter, grabbing Francis's butt. "Your ass isn't shapely enough to fuck! And the awesome me doesn't want any STDs!"

Having had enough of the conversation, I walked inside and over to the couch where Feliciano was still sleeping. I crouched down and took his temperature quickly. He had been sleeping a lot lately. I wondered if that was his escape from reality, or if it was simply that his body, weakened by the concentration camp, was trying to recover. Whatever it was, I hated to wake him up. Perhaps we could stay for breakfast and then leave…I looked over at the Frenchman, who seemed more than unlikely to offer us food any time soon, and stood again.

"We're leaving," I announced, thinking of the sustenance we had compiled in the car. "If we are to make it to a port soon, we must go now."

To my surprise, Gilbert didn't whine or disagree. He simply nodded and found the cloak he had been wearing, throwing it over his shoulders. "Let's go to Canada!"

Francis smiled at his friend's enthusiasm, waggling his eyebrows. "Good luck with my Mattie, Gilbert~! Give him plenty of French kisses for me, won't you?

Blocking out my brother's sure-to-be disgusting answer to that question, I moved to wake Feliciano up, only to find him already sitting. His eyes stared unseeingly down at the cushions beneath him, forehead shining with sweat, and his whole body seemed to be quivering. It was a face I hadn't seen him make since he had watched his brother die. This Holocaustic nightmare was plaguing his dreams now, no peace to be found even in unconsciousness.

The sooner we left Europe, the better it would be for him. I knew seeing all these Nazis around wasn't good for him, or the stress from running away, but we had to move forward. There was no other direction to go.

"Feliciano," I called softly.

I watched his body jerk in surprise, felt my heart sink as he gazed at me fearfully. It was almost as if he no longer recognized my face, only saw me the way he had at Auschwitz. A murderer, out to kill everything that made his life worthwhile.

Thankfully, his expression changed quickly as he realized he had only been dreaming. "Wiggie? I don't feel so good today…" he mumbled, wiping at his eyes.

I stared at him, knowing I should say something to comfort him. Instead, I dropped my gaze awkwardly and turned, unable to think of any consoling words. There was nothing I could say. "We are leaving again. Try to get some more rest in the car. I do not know how long the trip on the boat is going to be or even if we will be able to catch one at all."

"Can we eat breakfast first?" he asked, popping to his feet and looking at Francis pleadingly.

Francis shook his head, sighing, "_Desole_, little Feli, but those nasty Nazis have rationed our food supply! I only have enough for myself for the rest of the week."

So that was it; the reason he hadn't offered us a bite to eat. "That is alright," I intervened. "Feliciano, we have food in the car for you to eat. Besides, we have no time to waste waiting for a meal to cook. We must get back on the road." I looked to Francis. "Thank you for allowing us to stay here."

"No problem~! I would do anything for Gilbert, especially if he brings cuties like Feli with him every time!"

I felt my eye twitch, but ignored it and shoved my brother out the door, following after and being sure Feliciano was just behind.

"Bye bye, Francis!" Feliciano called out as we left. "Your couch was really comfy!"

"_Au revoir~_!"

As we hurried down the stairs, Gilbert made a noise of protest. "I didn't get to say goodbye!"

"That is not important right now. You can just write him a note to apologize later," I growled, suddenly remembering that I had my own note to write still. It crinkled in my pocket, reminding me of the hopeful Spaniard who was still waiting patiently to see his boyfriend again. "Now hurry up and get into the car. I want to move before the snow gets too heavy."

So I said, but by the time we were back on the route toward the ports of France, the snow was falling thickly, blanketing the windshield. I was sure the closer to the ocean we got, the warmer it would become and the less snow we would have to deal with. However, at this moment, without a working heater in this old clunking car, we were all slowly freezing as the crystals continued to fall. Feliciano had his face pressed against the window in awe, his face lit up with excitement despite the bags under his eyes.

"It's so pretty outside~!" he said, hugging the dog closest to him. "Just like when we made snowmen! Remember, Wiggie? I made one of you and me!"

I could feel my brother's amused eyes on me as they both awaited my answer. Coughing uncomfortably and feeling my face warm, I focused on the road as an excuse not to answer for a moment. "I…yes. I remember," I admitted, recalling the snowmen's stick hands pressed closely together.

I heard what sounded like a snicker, before Gilbert taunted, "West is in love, West is in love~!"

Sighing, I shook my head. "Do you know English or do you not? Because clearly there are things you seem to understand when Feliciano speaks."

He stretched and put his arms behind his head, a can of something dangling from his mouth. "Just because the awesome me failed English class doesn't mean he didn't listen sometimes! Speaking English is too hard, but understanding it is easier!"

"I was under the impression that you were unable to do either."

He scowled at me, sticking his stinky feet up the seat beside my head. "You're wrong! My brain is as big as my five meters!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I asked, exasperated. "Nevermind, don't answer that. Just stay quiet."

A couple hours later, we finally escaped the snowier regions of France, coming upon the ports that lined the Western edge of the country. My aim was the town of Le Havre and it didn't take much time to get there from Paris. Soon, we were driving through the streets of the city, following the signs to the port that would be our escape. I hoped fervently that any ship that would lead us away from here would be there already, delivering goods to the soldiers fighting. Waiting around for a cargo ship to appear was not a plausible option with so many German soldiers crawling the streets of this city.

As I drove around, I soon spotted the tops of ships and headed that direction. Within minutes, we had reached the port, full of Axis vessels. I considered that, wondering if perhaps one of them may be headed to Great Britain. If so, though it would take even longer, we could hide in one of those and catch an American cargo ship to get to the United States, and from there, head to Canada. Or, if there was a Canadian ship, take that route. Both plans seemed dangerous and long, but I could think of no other way.

I pulled into a parking spot and looked into the backseat, where two sets of wondering eyes met mine. "I am going to walk around and see if I can eavesdrop on where these ships are headed. You two must stay low and keep hiding. I will be back soon."

"Please hurry, Wiggie," Feliciano said, his voice shaking.

I started to leave, but noticed that some German soldiers were looking my way. Thinking rationally, I got out of the car and threw the back door open, pulling my German shepherd out. Of course it had seemed odd that I was staring so intently into the backseat to them. I let Blackie run free, petting the other two dogs, before whistling for him to heel and heading towards the water. The soldiers, satisfied, turned back to their work as I walked by.

"…headed to Southern France…"

"Hurry up with those supplies!"

"…Great Britain…"

I paused, straining to hear over the shouting and boat whistles. Where to go now? How long would this take? Which ship should we get on? More importantly, how were we ever going to sneak past all these soldiers?

Just as I was starting to lose hope, the answer appeared before me.

There, sitting to the side untouched and unmanned by anybody, was a lone fishing boat.

With a port full of German warships and soldiers, and an ocean with wave swells bigger than a house, I knew it was a huge risk. Not to mention the freezing temperatures that could be our deaths if the water touched us. Still, none of that mattered to me. The danger was a distant memory, so far away that it sat at an untouchable distance. Saving Feliciano was the only thing on my mind.


	13. Canada

**Hey :D So, last week i posed a question and nobody answered it...because of that, i'm going to ask again. My friend is willing to make another version of Devil's Dance from Feliciano's POV and i wanted to know: is that something any of you would like to read? Please let me know in your reviews! Anyway, i hope you enjoy my new chapter and please excuse any mistakes i made :) **

I looked from the boat to the car, judging the distance. Running would only draw attention, but if we didn't, we could be noticed just as easily. No, it would be impossible to fight through the sea of keen eyes around us. We needed a distraction, something to take the attention of all the Nazis off of the ships in the harbor.

With a new resolve, I whistled for Blackie to come over to me from where he had been sniffing a bush and headed back to where Feliciano and Gilbert waited. I opened the door, allowing the dog to jump into the backseat and settle before quietly explaining the situation to them both.

"If we can find a way over to that fishing boat without being seen, we can escape," I whispered, jerking my head towards it. "Gilbert, do you know how to hotwire boats as well?"

His head popped up, his mouth set in a crooked grin. "Nothing can escape the awesome might of my power!"

"Good. Now we just need a distraction," I explained, checking over my shoulder in paranoia.

The Gilbird chirped proudly, flying around the car and squawking with determination.

"Gilbird says he'll take care of it!"

My eyes narrowed, following the tiny canary. Could it possibly work? How could such a small creature distract a whole swarm of soldiers? It was hard to trust something so unpredictable…but it was a plan, and not a bad one. If the bird successfully distracted them, we could steal the boat while he was doing so and he would still be able to catch up to us later. Using my dogs would mean leaving one behind and using a person was out of the question.

"Alright," I agreed. "Once all eyes are on the bird, we will have to hurry. Gilbert, you are in charge of the food. Feliciano, you will help me with the dogs. When we are on the boat, after Gilbert has started it, you both are to hide inside the cabin, do you hear me? If either of you does not, it could jeopardize the entire escape."

"What about you, Wiggie?" Feliciano asked. "Where are you going to be?"

I met his worried gaze with a stern one of my own. "Someone must drive. We will not get anywhere if I am not behind the wheel."

His lip quivered. "But it's so cold…and you've been driving this whole time, _ve~_. You're working too hard!"

He was right; at this rate, there was no way I would be able to escape crashing later. However… "The only thing that matters right now is saving you," I informed him, avoiding his eyes. "And Gilbert," I added as an afterthought. "My primary goal is to be sure you both make it to Canada alive. If that means sacrificing myself a little, it will be worth it to see you reach safety."

"It's not an order, Wiggie," Feliciano said gently, his eyes sad. "You're not in Auschwitz anymore."

Surprised, I couldn't help but look at him. "I know," I stated, but his comment had thrown me. Had I been acting as if I was under orders this entire time? As if I was still a Nazi? Shaking off the thought, I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily, trying to remember what it had felt like to be a normal person. "I know. But if I do not do it, then Gilbert will try. And I can assure you, we do not want that."

Feliciano giggled, eyeing my brother as he conversed noisily with his bird.

"Alright!" Gilbert announced suddenly, turning to find us both already staring. Self-consciously, he wiped at his face. "What? Is there something on my sexy face? Is it too beautiful to keep your eyes off?!"

"That is unimportant. Have you come up with a plan to distract the soldiers?" I asked.

He nodded, sitting up. "It's called the APTCNF! The Awesome Plan That Can Never Fail!"

"Right...," I muttered, ignoring his idiocy and glancing over my shoulder. "Well, we should put it into action now. We do not have much time, so be prepared to run." In English, I relayed the message to Feliciano and then growled to Gilbert, "I hope your plan is as 'awesome' as you claim."

He gave me a condescending grin, clicking his tongue and motioning for Gilbird to go. "Everything about me is awesome! It will work!"

I watched, swallowing back my nerves, as the canary flew determinedly upwards, high into the sky. I could just barely see his round, yellow body against the heavy clouds as he continued upward, flapping his tiny wings with all his might. The moment I wondered if he would ever come back down, he paused for a moment… and dropped from hundreds of feet up, his body like a mini torpedo as it plummeted. He was a streak of brightness in the dark day, slicing through the air beak first. What was he going to do? Attack the soldiers kamikaze-style? Watching in disbelief, he fell from the sky and drilled right into an unexpecting man's head.

With a yelp of surprise, he fell to the ground, blood seeping from his scalp. The men near him turned, equally startled to find him suddenly unconscious, and hurried to help. But Gilbird was already preparing another attack, flying high and dropping down repeatedly. Soon, a good portion of the soldiers were lying on the ground, while the others frantically tried to identify the invisible threat before it got the rest of them.

"Bingo!" Gilbert snickered, hugging the bags of food closer.

"Alright, go!" I spat, shoving both Feliciano and Gilbert toward the boat, and trailing behind them. "Move!"

The dogs ran beside us happily, their tongues lolling as they easily matched our pace. I turned my head slightly to glance behind, wondering if they had noticed us, but Gilbird clearly had it under control. He was flying around the leftover soldiers' heads, chirping mockingly as they yelled and swatted at him. At another moment, it would have likely been amusing to me. Instead, I felt only relieved and grateful.

We reached the boat without any notice and I immediately got to work attempting to figure out the steering mechanisms. I had never driven a boat of any size, and nothing was the same as it was in a car. As Gilbert messed with wires, keeping low and out of view, I untied ropes with quick, precise movements and studied the controls. The vessel came loose from the dock, lolling on the violent waves, just as my brother made a noise of triumph and the boat roared to life underneath us.

"Now go to the cabin," I hissed at him, and watched as he slunk away.

I could hear shouting now, the wind whipping the sound to my ears; they had found out. I didn't dare turn to look at them as I hurriedly tried to understand the foreign vehicle set before me. Time ticked away quickly as I tried all kind of controls to make us go faster, finally stumbling upon a stick-like item and pushing it forward. The boat jetted forward, the bow rising high in the water, and finally, after so much time spent in agonizing wait, we were moving forward.

Now that we were no longer sitting ducks, I risked a quick glance towards the shore. Some of the soldiers had broken loose from Gilbird's harassment and were yelling after me furiously, though we seemed to have caught them at a moment where they had no weaponry. Triumphant, I turned back to the unending ocean before me, not liking the way the navy water thrashed and churned with the chilling winter air gusts. I could feel the low temperatures biting into my already damaged skin; now that we were on open water there was no cover from the ferocity winter had to offer. I sucked a deep, dry breath and tried to ignore the cold that seeped into my bones.

Hours passed as we headed east, the shoreline of France disappearing into a distant memory. Now there was only the Atlantic Ocean on every side of us, a monotony that gave me more time to think than I would have liked. I felt my mind drifting in and out of reality, the past mixing oddly with the present as I struggled to keep alert. Just as I started to fall back into the recesses of my mind for the thousandth time, the cabin door creaked open and Feliciano's auburn hair popped out.

"Wiggie? Are you hungry?" More of his body emerged, his curl whipping in the breeze. "Brr! It's freezing out here! You should come inside for awhile and warm up with some food, _ve~_."

I shook my head stiffly, the muscles in my neck tight from the cold. "I have to drive," I uttered through my teeth.

He came over to me, concern written plainly on his face. "Well…you can't drive forever. And you need to eat so that you can stay alert! Maybe I could drive for awhile!"

I gave him what I hoped was a fierce glare, though I could no longer feel my face. "No."

Biting his lip, he put his arms around me and gave a startled gasp. "You're so cold! Please go inside, Wiggie. I'm scared you're really gonna get sick! We can ask Gilbert if he'll drive!"

"D-do you want t-to get lost f-forever?" I asked through the haze in my brain.

Feliciano gazed up at me, his eyes starting to water. "I'd rather get lost forever than lose you, Wiggie."

I watched the tears roll down his cheeks guiltily, heard the pleading edge to his sweet voice as he begged me to listen. "Alright," I relented, prying my hands off of the steering wheel with slight difficulty. "B-but only for a f-few minutes."

Smiling and wiping the moisture from his cheeks, he took my hand and led me inside. Immediately, heat barraged me, sending a painful thawing sensation through my frozen body. The cabin was a fairly nice size, with a small stove in the corner and seats lining the walls. Gilbert was sprawled out on the floor, holding a bowl of something steaming and brown, trying to fend off the dogs as their tongues snaked into the food.

"I cooked a can of soup for us," Feliciano explained, going to the stove and scooping me some. "There were already pots and things, so I borrowed them!"

I took the food from Feliciano and brought a shaking spoonful up to my mouth. The taste didn't register on my tongue, only the warm feeling as it trickled into my empty stomach. I glanced around at the supplies lined up in the cabin, trying to decipher which would be useful to us. Hung on the walls was netting, obviously used for catching the fish in large quantities. It would be helpful to have that, should we run out of food before reaching Canada. Our main concern was drinking water, which Gilbert had not had the foresight to procure when going out. I was partially to blame for not asking, but it was too late to get upset about it now. With the stove and pots that Feliciano had found, we could boil the sea water to purify it and with the freezing temperatures, keeping it cold would be an easy task.

"West, get your dogs out of my soup!" Gilbert whined, shoving Berlitz away as he stole another chunk of meat. "And where is my awesome Gilbird? He never came back!"

"He never returned?" I asked, sitting down and staring uneasily out the windows at the cloudy night sky.

He looked down at his bowl, his gray hair falling into his face. "No."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "I am sure he made it out of there," I said reassuringly. "He was quite impressive, distracting the soldiers. A bird like that is strong enough to survive anything."

"Yeah! You're right, West! Gilbird is the almighty overlord of canaries! He wouldn't get taken out so pathetically!" Gilbert yelled, his energy returning.

Watching him perk up again was relieving, as it was annoying. I couldn't help but smile.

Just as I did, the boat gave a dangerous heave that had us all bracing ourselves and the dogs skidding across the floor. Feliciano, who had been stirring the pot on the stove and humming peacefully, gave a yelp of surprise that had us all instantly on high alert. I set my bowl down and jumped to my feet quickly, hurrying over to him.

"What is it?" I asked tensely.

He clutched his hand, an angry red splotch forming on the back. "Owie," he whimpered.

"Let me see it," I ordered, taking his hand gingerly and studying the burn. It didn't seem too bad, thankfully, though any burn at this point was a dangerous thing. "Gilbert, go outside and get a pot of water."

"Whaaaaaat? Why the awesome me?! What did he ever do to-"

Menacingly, I met his eyes. "Do it."

Pouting and mumbling, he got to his feet and grabbed an empty pot, trudging outside. "Fine, I'll get you your nasty fish-sex water!"

"Good," I sighed as he left. I watched him for a moment, struggling to catch some as the waves pounded with increasing intensity against the side of the boat. "Maybe I should go help him. I should have known that he would not be competent on his own."

However, just as I started to move, Feliciano's other hand clutched at mine and I turned to find him gazing at me with loneliness and fear in his amber eyes. "Please don't go back outside, Wiggie. I'm afraid of what's going to happen to you if you do. You were so pale before…like…like you were already dead! It was so scary!"

His words sent shivers through me, reminding me just how insecure he still was feeling. Just how lost he still was. Just how miserable he would always be. "Feliciano…"

"Don't go." He pressed his face into my shirt, pulling me into a tight hug.

I held him, just as unwilling as him to be left alone. We needed each other to distract ourselves from the thoughts that would drag us downward; without Feliciano, it was difficult to keep my head above the water. It was obvious that he felt the same. And in a way, we were the only people who could truly understand the suffering associated with imprisonment. Though I myself had not been chained, my escape from the horror had been just as improbable. Both he and I had been inhumanely caged against our will.

Feeling his fluttering heartbeat against my chest, I couldn't help but sink deeper into the bond that we had formed, falling for him even more.

The voyage stretched endlessly, each day a fight for survival. After healing Feliciano's burns as efficiently as possible, a storm struck. I struggled to keep the boat steady for almost a whole day, to keep it from capsizing under the swells that stretched endlessly into the sky before slamming us hard. We quickly ran out of food with six stomachs to fill. Catching fish had seemed easy in theory, yet in practice it took us hours just to get one net full. And each night, it seemed to get colder as we slowly approached the Canadian coastline.

The cabin no longer was an escape from the frigid temperatures. They permeated every crack and seeped inside, an invisible demon that could take one of us at any moment. Freezing, starving, and weak, I didn't know how much longer we had before we succumbed. Already Feliciano was showing signs of hypothermia; I was sure he had not stopped shivering in days, but he would not get up and move to warm up his muscles, despite my pleas. Unwillingly, I had had both the dogs and Gilbert lay close to him.

Now, even that didn't seem to be helping. Powerless and frustrated, I held him close to me, trying to rub friction into his unresponsive limbs. I had not come this far just to lose Feliciano this way. If he died now…everything I had done up to this point would have been for nothing. His eyes watched me lethargically, closing every once in awhile until I shook him awake. I knew that if he closed them now, I may never get to see them open again.

"I'm t-tired, Wiggie…can I p-please go to sl-sleep now?" he begged, his words slurring slightly.

"Not yet. Just stay awake for a little longer, Feliciano." I was watching him fade away, watching the life drain out of him slowly, and yet, somehow, there was not a damn thing I could do about it. Why had I pushed him this far? At this point, a quick death would have been more merciful, but…the thought of letting him go...I clutched him closer to me, my breath coming quicker. No. I would always fight with him for his life. His death would be losing. I couldn't let my own thoughts talk me out of the battle.

Feliciano's breath came slowly and gently, his mouth turning inexplicably up at the corners. "Hey…W-Wiggie?" he said suddenly.

I sat up rigidly. He was finally responding again. "Yes? What is it?"

"I w-was wondering…can you c-c-call me Feli? I would l-like that a lot," he breathed, brushing a trembling hand across my cheek.

I caught it, putting my own hand over his. "You want me to call you…Feli?"

He nodded, giving me a weak smile.

"Alright, I will," I agreed, feeling mildly embarrassed. "Feli."

His smile brightened, gaining some energy. Unexpectedly, he pulled closer and pressed his frozen lips against mine softly. Pulling away with a breathless giggle at my stunned expression, he whispered, "Wiggie, I love you."

"I…" I turned away from him, unable to look him in the eyes as I figured out how to respond. "I lov-"

"WEST!" Gilbert hollered, tripping inside the cabin with excitement. "LAND HO! Canada is here! I mean, we're in the awesome Canada! We made it! We-" He froze, as if sensing something. "Wait…" He looked from me to Feliciano and back. "West! Feli is awake now!"

I clenched my jaw, but stood, holding Feliciano bridal-style in my arms. "I know that Felici…I know that Feli is awake now." Looking forward, I could see we were finally closing in on a harbor. I exhaled with relief, though even now that we were in Canada, we still had hours of traveling left to do. "We must hurry and get help."

Gilbert nodded in agreement, doing an "I'm-in-Canada dance" and holding Feliciano while I drove the boat to a dock. The dogs barked as I tied us up clumsily, ropes hanging loosely from the posts. I yanked myself up onto the platform forcefully, reaching down to retrieve Feliciano from Gilbert. Gently, I laid him down beside me before pulling each one of the dogs up and then giving my brother a well-deserved hand. I stood straight, gazing at the heavy winter snow that piled on the ground with an internal groan.

Then the land seemed to tilt, shifting underneath me, and I found myself tripping awkwardly over my own feet. What was this? I shook my head, but the feeling didn't leave. Confused, I looked over to find Gilbert doing the same thing.

"I feel weird!" he announced, confirming my suspicions. "Canada's ground won't stop moving!"

"The ground?" I repeated, my tired brain trying to understand.

"Oh, um, that's not the ground," a quiet voice informed us. "You've been on a boat so long, your bodies haven't adjusted to the motionlessness yet."

We both turned to find a man had materialized behind us, a shy smile on his face. Seeing our eyes were on him, he looked down, his dirty blond hair falling over his glasses. On his red hoodie-clad shoulder sat the Gilbird, looking content. "Hello, I'm Matthew Williams. This little guy told me you guys would be here, so I came to pick you up." He pet the canary gently with a finger.

"Gilbird!" Overjoyed, Gilbert threw himself over to his pet and scooped him up, ignoring Matthew's personal space completely. "You're alive! The awesome me knew you would make it! You're a genius! I missed you so much!"

Matthew's face flushed, but he struggled to keep his voice steady. "Y-You must be Gilbert."

Surprised, Gilbert looked up from his bird and realized their proximity. He took a step away, glancing back at where I sat next to Feliciano. "Pssst! West! How do I say English words?!"

I ignored him, hauling the sick Italian into my arms. "Yes, that's Gilbert. Forgive him, he does not speak English. I am Ludwig and this is Feliciano."

Matthew paled at the sight of Feliciano's condition, concern alight in his blue eyes. "We better hurry and get him thawed out. How long has he been like this?"

"A few days," I answered, trying to calm my frantic emotions.

"Well, you all look like you could use a lot of sleep, new clothes, a soft bed, and a plateful of pancakes," Matthew said, giving a sympathetic smile. "My car is just up the road. I think Feliciano will feel much better after he spends some time near a heater."

"Lead the way," I said, relieved that he didn't seem to be overly panicked about the hypothermia.

We followed him to a small car in a parking lot and piled inside, Gilbert yelling "shotgun" even though nobody cared.

Matthew gave us all a soft, caring look before pulling out onto the road. "Only a few more hours until we get to my house. Please get some rest in the meantime, okay?" he requested, blasting the heater. "And...well, I'm really glad you all finally made it. Welcome to Canada."


	14. Bed and Breakfast

**Oh my...i feel like i didn't get much done with this chapter, but sometimes you just need to write one for fun :D I hope you still enjoy it, despite it all~ Oh, and thank you very much to everyone who answered my question last chapter! Feliciano's POV will be available soon after i finish the story, which is awesome news! Have a great day, everyone :)**

Before I realized it, we were driving down the long, twisting driveway of an impressive house. Somehow, I had no existing memory of the way here, though I didn't think I had fallen asleep. Looking around groggily, I found Feliciano's pale face had a little color now, though he was still shivering, and that Gilbert was somehow already awake. I watched as he and Matthew attempted to communicate through the language barrier they had, finding with surprise that the canary, of all things, seemed to be translating for them.

"Your brother's awake," Matthew noted, smiling. "Good morning. Are you feeling better, Ludwig?"

I felt aches and pains I hadn't through the adrenaline, my body still burning and stiff from the cold. But I nodded anyway. "Yes, thank you."

He studied me a moment, as if seeing through my lie. "We're almost there. It looks like Feliciano is doing better, thankfully, but I still want to get some decent food into him."

"Mattie's gonna make flatcakes!" Gilbert told me excitedly. "Real, live Canadian flatcakes! With maple syrup!"

I eyed my brother, wondering just how long he had been pestering Matthew for. "I apologize if Gilbert has been annoying you. He has been going on about pancakes since we left Germany," I sighed, knowing that most people who met Gilbert were intimidated.

Matthew's cheeks reddened. "Oh, no, Gilbert's not annoying. He's actually really fun to talk to," he admitted, his voice getting quieter with every word. Then, looking mortified, he added, "U-uh, Gilbird, you don't need to translate that…"

The Gilbird puffed up indignantly on Matthew's head, squawking in disapproval.

"How can you understand that thing?" I wondered, adjusting Feliciano on the seat so that his head rested on my shoulder. "To me it just sounds like a normal bird."

Matthew put on the breaks as we reached the house and turned the engine off. "I…I don't know. I've never been able to speak with birds before, but for some reason, his chirping sounds like words to me." He got out of the car, hurrying over to open the door for me as I took Feliciano in my arms. "He really does look better."

And he did. The bluish tone had faded from his lips, his skin gaining more color with every moment he spent in warmth. He was even mumbling in his sleep now, which he had been far from doing on the boat. A swift recovery for someone who had been through so much.

"Let's go put him in a bed," Matthew suggested. "And I'll get to work making some dinner."

Gilbert and I followed him inside the lustrous old cottage house, too tired to really appreciate how beautiful everything seemed to be here. Even inside, it was well decorated and neat, but all I could really see was the intimidating staircase that Matthew was climbing. Sighing, I forced myself to take it one step at a time, every muscle in my body screaming in protest as I hauled Feliciano's weight as well as my own. Gilbert followed beside me easily, an obnoxious smile on his face as he studied the butt of the man in front of us.

"Hey, West," he whispered to me, even though Matthew couldn't understand us anyway. "Don't you think Mattie is totally hot?!"

I gave him a sideways glare. "I have said it before and I will say it again. Do not violate our host. Anyway, it is clear that is he is too good for you."

Gilbert snickered. "Good boys are new for the awesome me!"

"Have you dated men before?" I asked, honestly curious. Maybe these feelings I had for Feliciano weren't as odd as I'd first thought, though using my brother as an example wasn't really the most reassuring.

He studied me for a second, taken off guard, but soon burst into the rambunctious laughter that more suited his irritating personality. "AS IF! I like boobies!"

I narrowed my eyes at him, readjusting Feliciano in my arms and trying not to feel uncomfortable with his reaction. "Well, Matthew clearly does not have breasts."

The Canadian glanced back us with a light blush, hearing his name used for likely the thousandth time. I felt guilty for gossiping about him, but Gilbert's reasoning was something I needed to hear. What had attracted him to another man if he usually liked women?

"But look at his ASS!" He gestured at it, just to be sure I knew exactly what ass we were talking about.

Matthew's face flamed the color of his hoodie. Obviously, he had seen that gesture as well. "U-um…" In self-conscious embarrassment, he pulled his shirt down further just as we reached the top. "Okay…I'm sorry about this, but I only have two guest rooms. Ludwig, would you like to share a room with Gilbert?"

I felt my eyebrow twitch. "I would rather stay with Feliciano, if that is alright. I want to monitor his condition."

He looked mildly surprised, but showed me to a woodsy brown room with a large sliding door that had a stunning view of the forest and led out to a balcony. On another wall, there was a stone fireplace, the flames that flickered inside the pit warming the entire room and occasionally burning a strange shade of green. The colors cast warm shadows across the entire space, giving both the loveseat that sat near to the fire and the queen bed on the opposing wall an open, comfortable feel.

"It is quite beautiful here," I praised, wrapping Feliciano under the covers of the bed. "You have a good eye for decorating."

He offered a shy smile and looked away, into the lively fireplace. "Thank you very much, but I'm not the one responsible. This was actually my father's home. You see, this used to be a bed and breakfast that he ran once, when he was a little older than me. It was made to be a place for couples to go to, so that they could have a romantic stay away from the world." His sapphire eyes shone as he spoke, the reflection of the fire giving the impression that they were shimmering. "It was really popular for several years. But after awhile, people stopped coming and he had to close it down. Of course, this was his home, so he still lived here." For a moment, he paused as memories flooded his mind, his face falling.

Gilbert noticed the change in Matthew's expression and I watched as he struggled to compose his worry for the other man. Clearly, though he'd known him for only a few hours and couldn't understand more than half the words he said, something was already developing in his heart. I was sure he wasn't used to feeling such raw emotion, and was quickly proven right. He had no idea what to do with it.

My brother turned to me, fidgeting, and mumbled, "What's wrong with him? What is he talking about?"

I shook my head at Gilbert, turning back to Matthew. "He gave you this house, then?" I asked.

"That's right, he left it to me in his will, though he had only recently learned that he even had a son. My father…died almost a year ago. I only knew him for half a year, but I could tell he was a great guy," he explained. "His dream was to get the bed and breakfast back up and going someday. I was going to help him, too. Only, he died before he could even realize the only thing he'd ever wanted out of life." He stared down at his feet sorrowfully for a moment, before looking back up with an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to go into all that. I better go show Gilbert to his room and get started on dinner! I'll come get you when it's time to eat, okay? Please help yourself to anything in here." With that, he led my sputtering, confused brother out the door.

I sighed heavily when they were gone, turning to where Feliciano lay on the bed. His breathing was even now, no longer short and gasping as it had been. He muttered in his sleep and turned over, hugging the comforter into his arms contentedly. Exhausted, I fell onto the loveseat and stared into the fire, thinking over Matthew's hole-filled story about this house. His father was dead, too. Could nobody have a happy story? Was that how the world had to be? Surely a nice guy like him should have had everything go right in his life. At least living in Canada, he had been spared the horrors Europe had to offer.

More blood-tinted images flooded my mind, memories of my time at Auschwitz gripping me. So many potentially happy stories I had ended myself… Why was I even thinking this way? Feliciano was finally safe. I had succeeded in my mission to get him out of harm's way, to protect him until he could no longer fear walking into broad daylight. Yet I couldn't forget a single image from the camp. They had all been permanently burned into my mind.

Still too anxious to even try to sleep, I pulled out the letter that had been sitting untouched in my pocket for weeks now, setting it down on the coffee table in front of me. Antonio. It had been so long, yet he still had no idea about Lovino. How could I even begin? Being asked to tell someone that you had murdered their lover…it was a nearly impossible task. But I had to be the one to do it. I knew it was too late to ask for his forgiveness, to even begin to think he would be able to logically comprehend why I had had to kill Lovino. However, if put in his position, I would want to know about Feliciano's death.

Determined, I scrounged up a pen from the room and set it to the paper.

'_Dear Antonio,_' I tried.

My mind hurriedly blanked, my hand hovering uncertainly. I had no idea how to tell him the story, how to explain from start to finish his boyfriend's fate. Even introducing the topic was too strenuous for my exhausted brain. I sat back in the seat, closing my eyes and exhaling the stress. Would I ever be able to find the right words?

I let my thoughts wander to pleasant places, halfway falling asleep, never letting my guard down. I no longer had the ability to relax into deep sleep. Every noise had me flinching into consciousness. When I heard the soft patter of feet on the floor, I started upright frantically, only to find Feliciano had wandered over to me. He held something in his hand, and was staring at it with a look of hollow sadness.

"Feliciano?" I mumbled, not understanding. "What…"

His eyes flicked up to me from the object, which I recognized as paper. "Are you writing Toni, Wiggie?"

Then I understood. My gaze went over the table and, finding it empty, I sighed. He had found out. "Yes. I was…going to inform him." I felt stiff from napping upright, my whole body still sore.

He set the note down again, his expression so melancholy I longed to pull him into my arms, just to assure him he would never be alone. As it turned out, I didn't have to move a single muscle; he did it for me, folding himself into my grasp. His body was still cold, but the rest he had gotten seemed to have helped exponentially.

"How do you feel?" I asked, dutifully feeling his forehead.

"I feel much better!" he said, forcing a smile onto his face. "But I'm really hungry now…Hey, Wiggie, _ve~_?"

I glanced down at him wonderingly.

His eyes shone. "I think you should tell Toni the truth about what happened to Lovi. He'll definitely forgive you if you do. Okay?" He cuddled closer to me. "I know you blame yourself for _fratello _dying, but it wasn't your fault at all. If you explain that to Toni, maybe you can still be friends!"

I brushed my fingers across his cheek gently. His optimism in me was unfailing. "Every single word will be the truth," I promised. "I never intended to tell him lies. However, whether we will be able to become friends…that is Antonio's decision to make."

"He'll forgive you!" Feliciano said confidently. Then, suddenly, he looked around in puzzlement. "Wiggie, where are the doggies?"

I glanced around. They were nowhere to be seen. "I guess they did not follow us up here." Thinking back, I could recall the dogs lying down in Matthew's living room for a nap, just as tired as the rest of us.

Feliciano broke from our embrace, meandering to the door and opening it, peeking out. Grinning happily, he ran from the room to the banister that opened up to view both the kitchen and living room of the first floor. I followed him, looking down to see Matthew stirring batter in a bowl while Gilbert snuck his finger in to steal a taste, a mischievous grin on his lips.

"Hey!" Matthew scolded quietly, but he was smiling, too. "You have to wait."

I assumed that Gilbird would translate that for him, but the canary didn't move from his spot on Gilbert's head. In fact, it seemed he was completely unconscious, sleeping while they spoke. That meant that despite everything, they had been communicating without help. And flirting. I grimaced at my brother, watching him play with Matthew despite my warnings about it.

Gilbert snickered, but his face quickly lost all traces of humor and took on a thoughtful look. I hadn't even been aware he possessed such an expression. "I…" he muttered.

I started in surprise. Was he going to attempt to speak English? Maybe even he knew basic phrases, though he had never put them into practice near me. Matthew looked equally surprised, glancing over to him as he placed the dough onto a griddle.

However, neither of us got a chance to hear Gilbert, because right at that moment a blur of white came streaking into the room and sent my dogs into a crazed frenzy of barking. I heard Feliciano squeal as the figure of a baby polar bear emerged, baring his teeth at them with a growl. Matthew dropped his bowl onto the counter and ran into the living room, scooping the tiny bear into his arms.

"No, Kamojiki! They're friends!" he explained to the squirming animal, who looked up at him with blank black eyes.

Nobody could speak for a moment, staring at the odd image. Even the dogs had shut up.

Finally, after a long silence, Gilbert summed it all up. "What the fuck?! A bear! It's a bear!"

Matthew's face reddened in embarrassment. "I told you to stay in my room," he said in exasperation. "Why did you come out?"

The bear grumbled, setting its beady glare on my dogs.

"That's no excuse… I'm taking you back, and this time you should really stay, okay? Unless you're going to be nice to the dogs."

I felt like I was watching my brother communicating with his canary all over again, something I had been sure only he was crazy enough to do. Evidently, I was wrong.

The bear slumped in his grasp, demonstrating that he was going to be good with a snuffle. "Alright then," Matthew sighed, placing his odd pet down on the couch, much to my dogs' dismay. He glanced up at all of our startled faces, his flush deepening as he remembered he had an audience. "Uh…th-that's..." His eyes dropped back to the floor. "I didn't plan on keeping him. But he got abandoned by his mother and so I took him in. I couldn't just leave him there to die…"

Feliciano headed down the stairs, making his voice comforting as he said, "That's so nice!" even though he was obviously still shaken. "What's his name, _ve~_?"

Matthew gave him a relieved, spared smile as the Italian came to stand next to him. "Well, I have a hard time remembering it sometimes…so I put a collar on him. But then he ate it off, so I don't really know…"

"You called him Kamojiki earlier," I offered, following Feliciano's lead.

"Did I…? Somehow that doesn't seem right, though." Uncertainly, he shook his head. "Anyway, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I thought maybe I would get a chance to explain before you saw him."

Gilbert, still shocked, slunk into the living room with us and peeked over the back of the couch at the napping ball of fur, the bird on his head doing his best to snarl. "Whoa! It's real! I want to touch it!" Thoughtlessly, he thrust his hand forward into the thick, clear hairs.

Matthew looked unnerved, but the bear just turned its dark eyes on my brother sleepily, before letting them slowly close again, content and unconcerned. Relaxing, Matthew gave Gilbert a soft grin, his eyes full of awe. "He never usually lets anyone touch him but me. My older brother, Alfred, can't get near him." He watched for a moment, before drifting back to continue his cooking.

"I have no idea what the awesome Mattie is saying," Gilbert cooed to the bear, stroking its ears while Gilbird flew over to Matthew in a jealous rage. "I wish he spoke German!"

"Maybe you should learn English," I suggested, irritated. "Since you and Matthew seem to have some inexplicable attraction for each other."

He pouted for a minute. "The awesome me knows some! Like… 'strawberries' and 'apples'!"

Matthew looked over from the pancakes, confused by the sudden dropping of fruit names.

"Yes, because that is going to do you so much good in a conversation," I grumbled sarcastically "Try saying something rational."

He looked at me thoughtfully. "How do you say 'I think you are sexy awesomesauce?'"

"That is not rational." I looked at him sternly, my brow furrowed.

"How about 'Do you have chocolate chips to put in the pancakes?'" he suggested, glancing over his shoulder at the man in the kitchen. His eyes followed Matthew's every movement, his normally hard ruby irises gentle. "Or… 'I think you're really hot'?"

I could see he was struggling with his unexpected feelings and decided, perhaps, I could help him out. "How about you tell me what you were going to say in the kitchen before the polar bear came into the room?"

He surprised me by blushing, but he quickly turned and laughed, pretending nothing had happened. "It was nothing important! The awesome me can't even remember anymore!" he lied.

I stared at his tensed back for a moment, before sighing. "Fine. Let me know if you suddenly decide to remember." Unperturbed, I headed into the kitchen to help Matthew, feeling bad for never offering, only to find Feliciano had beat me to it.

With interest, I also noted that Matthew had extracted a large bag of chocolate chips from the cabinet for the next batch of pancakes.

"After dinner, we'll need to find you guys some new clothes so that you guys can shower..." he was saying to Feliciano. "Then, after you sleep some more, I'll show you around the house and some places I like to go to in town."

Feliciano's eyes were bright with happiness. "And I'll show you how to make yummy pasta~!"

Seeing him so completely at ease, smiling unfailingly despite his near-death experience just hours before sent a thrill of satisfaction through me. Since the moment we had left, I had wondered if I was making all the right choices. If putting him through so much stress was worth it. Now, seeing the result, I knew my hesitation had been unnecessary. Feliciano was without a doubt safe here and, as soon as I could manage, I would make his dream of living freely in America come true. Of course, first I would have to find a job. The thought of labor sent the burning fire through my wounds again, but it was tolerable. I was sure anything would be tolerable to me in the wake of one of Feliciano's smiles.


	15. Titian Glow

**Wow, this chapter took a lot longer than it should have...but on the upside, i wrote about a thousand more words than usual :) Life has been kind of hectic lately, what with my old computer falling off my bed and breaking, homework off the wahoozle, and things like that...So i'm really sorry if my writing sounds kind of weird and ADD. But the good news is my birthday was on Friday and i got a new laptop! It's very sexy~ Anyway, i hope you can enjoy this regardless and happy reading :D (P.S. If any of my words are missing letters, it's because i'm still getting used to writing with this keyboard...)**

The clothes Matthew had scrounged up from one of the thousands of closest in his house clung tightly to the muscles of my torso, emphasizing every detail of my chest and arms with uncomfortable precision. I shook my head at the form-fitting black shirt as I glared into the steamy mirror, neatly sliding my fingers through my wet hair to smooth it back. It had been too long since I had had access to a shower; it was a relief to no longer feel grungy and disgusting, even it did mean I had to wear something that didn't quite fit me right. At least the pants weren't quite as bad.

My eyes drifted to the ugly, ragged scar that had formed on my shoulder, a searing reminder of why I was here. It hadn't healed well, despite the treatment I had gotten in Poland from Toris, and it had undoubtedly been infected repeatedly. I was surprised it hadn't caused me more grief than it had…but then again, I supposed, it was just another injury to add to the plethora of cicatrices that marred my skin, each one possessing its own painful memory.

I pulled my sleeve down abruptly, sick of looking at myself, and switched the lights off, stepping into the bedroom. The green fire in the fireplace had long since burned out, but the moon was full tonight and I could very clearly see across the large space to the bed. It was obviously empty; Feliciano was nowhere to be found. Confused, I felt my eyebrows pinch together. I was sure he had been sleeping there before I'd gone into the bathroom…

A gentle gust eddied through the room, and my unasked question was answered.

"Wiggie! Come look at the moon! It's so pretty tonight!"

I glanced over at the haphazardly opened doors, Feliciano's figure silhouetted by the titian glow of a harvest moon on the balcony. The incredible color lit his eyes with fire as he smiled at me, his face even warmer now with the light shining down on him. I was too stunned to move for a moment, my thoughts taken by the beauty. He really looked like an angel, the way his white coat billowed in the breeze, his body turned toward me as if he were coming to take my soul to Heaven. The thought brought me strange peace… which quickly made me question my sanity.

He cocked his head to the side, taking a step closer. "Wiggie? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice brimming with worry.

"Yes," I answered quickly, shaking off the odd picture. "Just…tired." Before he could ask any more questions, I joined him, leaning against the railing as he linked our hands.

He gave a satisfied sigh, pressing into my side as we gazed up at the twilight sky, stars just peeking into view under the brilliance of the moon. They glimmered energetically, undaunted by the intensity of the moon, holding their own despite their size. I could see why Matthew's father had once seen this as a perfect romantic getaway for couples. It was beautiful. My cheeks warmed despite the bitter cold, and I was suddenly very conscious of Feliciano's hand wrapped in mine. Were we…a couple? It didn't even seem remotely possible. Yet as I stood here, my heart throbbing in my chest, feeling him so close to me, I couldn't help but think that we were something.

It was much too obvious that I loved him.

I could feel his eyes on me, likely wondering what had brought on the blush. "How old are you, Wiggie?" he asked randomly.

Or maybe not. Curious as to how that could possibly be relevant to this moment, I automatically muttered, "Twenty." Then I paused to reconsider. What day was it? I knew we had been travelling for a long, long time….surely my birthday had passed by now. "Actually, twenty-one, it seems. Why?"

His face fell, a pout taking the place of his smile. "Oh…I missed it... I wanted to give you something really special! Because you're so nice and strong and you always take care of me!"The grin flickered back and shockingly fervent compassion exuded from his voice as he continued. "When I got taken to Auschwitz, I was really scared…but you saved me when I stepped off that train and every day up until right now! Wiggie, you're the best guardian angel ever~! I love you so much!"

Again, I could feel my pale skin flaming with embarrassment, his words quickening my pulse. So he had thought of me the same way...I no longer felt quite as uncomfortable. I swallowed my pride and met his gaze, wanting very badly to kiss him. "I love you, too."

He giggled and stretched as far on his toes as he could, struggling to reach my lips. I closed the gap for him, pulling him into my arms, feeling the difference that mutual love could make to a simple kiss. All traces of our earlier tentativeness had evaporated; his arms locked around my neck, melding our bodies even closer, until I could feel his heartbeat fluttering sporadically in time with mine. A shiver ran through me, sending goosebumps across my skin, and I found myself kissing him harder, no longer being careful.

Feliciano gave a small gasp of surprise, but he didn't pull away, his fingers wrapping in my hair. "Wiggie…" he whispered, trying to catch his breath, "Let's go inside…you're cold, _ve~_."

I glanced down at him. My body felt like it was on fire…I wasn't cold at all. However, he likely would be if we stayed out here too much longer and the last thing I wanted was to watch helplessly as he suffered again. "Okay," I muttered breathlessly, releasing my hold on him.

Looking as reluctant as I felt, he unhooked his arms from around me, but kept a strong hold on my hand, as if he were afraid I would disappear if he ever let go. Had I not reassured him that I would never leave? I squeezed it gently, earning a soft smile from him that had my insides melting. He led us back into the room, stopping to let me close the balcony doors tightly before bouncing over to the bed to take off his jacket. Underneath, he wore only a pair of boxers adorned with various pictures of pasta.

"Feliciano," I growled disapprovingly. Had he not just gotten over hypothermia? Did he want to get sick again?

I sighed, fully intending to scold him, but when I looked into his eyes, I felt my resolve vanish. There was nothing but desire to continue the scene on the balcony, to finish what we had started. He wanted me…and, even though it made me nervous, I wanted him, too. Maybe the anger could wait until tomorrow.

A light knocking sound reverberated inside my skull, interrupting the strange dream I had been having. With a low groan, I sat up and looked around, rubbing my tired eyes absently. The sun was shining full force into the room, despite the blinds, as if it were already afternoon…What time was it? My eyes darted around for a clock and finally rested on one near the door.

Eleven-thirty?

Another knock sounded at the door.

I jumped up, yanking on the pants from last night, and ran a quick hand through my hair, hoping that it would cooperate.

"Um, Ludwig? Feliciano?" I heard Matthew's light voice through the door.

I threw it open a little too forcefully, and by the startled look on the poor Canadian's face, I was as flustered as I felt. "Er, sorry," I apologized. "I did not mean to sleep so late…" I focused on calming down enough to make my voice less frantic.

He gave me a smile, though he was clearly still wary. "That's okay, Gilbert just got up a half hour ago…I didn't mean to wake you, but I was wondering if you two still wanted to go into town today? It would really help to find some clothes that fit you better and I need to get some groceries, anyway…plus your brother keeps saying something about beer, so I'm assuming I should get more of that. I'm not too much of a drinker."

I shook my head. "Try not to give into Gilbert's spoiled demands. It goes right to his already elephant-sized ego. Aside from that, yes, I do believe we are still going. We will be right down. Oh, and thank you."

Matthew nodded. "No problem."

A loud smashing sound echoed through the house from downstairs, followed by a high-pitched squeal that had both Matthew and I running to the banister. Gilbert, his eyes wide, was hurriedly picking up some pieces of glass that had fallen onto the tile floors of the kitchen and idiotically trying to shape them back into the plate they used to be.

"You damn plate! Why won't you be plate-y again?!" he hissed, picking up a jagged piece carelessly and dropping it as it sliced him across the palm. "OW!"

"Gilbert! It's okay, don't try to…" Matthew started, before realizing it was pointless to talk to him. "Uh…just…can you please tell him to wait until I get some disinfectant and a Band-Aid?" He looked at me, his eyes brimming with concern for my idiot sibling.

I nodded. "Gilbert! Stop touching the glass shards! How stupid are you?"

Gilbert scowled up at me, holding his injured hand. "The awesome me just wanted to help set the table so Mattie did not have to do it! He wanted to… " Then he really seemed to see me…and I realized what I looked like. His scowl flipped into that irritating smirk and he laughed, temporarily forgetting the blood dripping from his wound. "What did you do last night, West?! You look like you had sex or something! HAHAHAHA! WEST! HAVING SEX!"

I felt my face heat up, but I turned before that could be scrutinized as well. It wasn't worth it to yell at him; it was simply a waste of breath. I hurried back into the room to wake up Feliciano and make myself look presentable again. After pulling on a new set of too small clothes, I shook the unconscious Italian awake.

"Feliciano," I grumbled, flushing as I looked at his grinning, at-ease sleeping face. "Feliciano!"

His eyes opened slowly, his expression slightly confused, until he saw me. He broke into another breathtaking smile the moment his gaze reached my face and sat up, wincing slightly. "Happy birthday, Wiggie!"

I stared at him, blinking.

He instantly started babbling. "I know it's not really your birthday, but I didn't know what day it was, and I was sad that I had missed it because I wanted to give you something since you always do everything for me and I had nothing to give you besides this and it really seemed like you liked it-"

I sat down next to him on the bed, unable to help myself from pulling him into a hug. "Thank you," I mumbled through my embarrassment. "But you did not need to give me anything…"

"I wanted to make you happy!" he chirruped. "Because I love you, _ve~_!" His face turned serious for a second. "When is your birthday? So I won't miss it next time! Mine's March seventeenth!"

There was no way around it. "January eighteenth. But there is no need to celebrate it…anyway you must get ready to go into town now. We would not want to hold Matthew up any more than we already have."

To my relief, Feliciano obliged, pulling on a hooded, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that fit him perfectly. "I smell yummy food~!" he said as we walked down the stairs.

Matthew glanced up from his cooking. "Good morning, Feliciano. Would you guys like some breakfast?"

"_Si_! Do you need any help?"

"No, it's all done this time, but thank you. You guys can just sit down and enjoy today." He took a pan off the stove, looking down as he transferred the food to plates and giving a shy smile. "After all, I have to get used to this if I ever plan on opening the Bed and Breakfast up again."

"Are you?" I asked, pulling a chair out for Feliciano and ignoring my brother's snide remarks from across the table. "That seems like a good idea."

Matthew nodded, the curl on his head bouncing. "I've always wanted to…it's just that running it on my own would be difficult. I'm not sure how my father did it for so long. It's really a lot of work…" He bent down, feeding my begging dogs pieces of bacon and giving them each a gentle pat on the head.

"Where's Kuma…Kuma…uh, the cute polar bear, _ve~_?" Feliciano asked.

"Oh," Matthew said, his eyes lighting up, "He's making friends with Gilbird. They're in my room watching TV."

Feliciano watched the food hungrily, grinning. "I didn't know bears could watch TV!"

The Canadian nodded, bringing the plates to the table and serving us, setting his own place beside Gilbert. "I guess they can, because that's one of his favorite hobbies. He likes romantic comedies the best." Sitting down, he glanced over at my obviously bored brother as he stuffed his cheeks full and smiled, handing him a napkin. "Um, Ludwig? Will you ask him how his hand is feeling for me please?"

I nodded, though I wasn't exactly amused about being the new translator. "Matthew wants to know how your hand feels."

His crimson eyes widened, dropping down to his well-bandaged hand and back up to meet Matthew's curious gaze. "Good," he said, finally using his limited English vocabulary.

He exhaled heavily with relief, taking the injured hand and examining the wrapping. "It's been so long since I've treated an injury, I was worried I wouldn't do it right…"

Watching him hold Gilbert's hand so carefully and seeing the way Gilbert's pale skin flushed in return, I couldn't help but feel that my brother had finally found someone that would do him some good for once. It made me wonder if he even realized how he acted around the other man, made me curious if he knew he was letting his defenses down. I hadn't realized Gilbert could fall in love.

"You two are so cute, _ve~_!" Feliciano said abruptly. "Like puppy love!"

As if he had been electrocuted, Matthew dropped Gilbert's hand, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. "I was just…checking his injury…" he whispered, looking mortified.

"What?" Gilbert wondered, looking from Matthew's discomfort to Feliciano's spacey smile to me. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "It is not important. You need to learn English."

"The awesome me is trying!" He grimaced at me, turning back to Matthew with determination. "He understood the word 'cute'. And 'puppy'! Was he calling Mattie a 'cute puppy'?"

Matthew's blush darkened. "I-I think it's time to go," he said hastily, standing up and taking our empty plates to the sink. "We don't want to get caught in afternoon traffic at the store."

Sensing that he wanted to be left alone for a few minutes, I stood. "We will go get our jackets," I said, motioning for Feliciano and Gilbert to come with me.

"But…" Gilbert protested, pointing at where Matthew stood scrubbing dishes. "I want to help."

"No, you just want to flirt with him. Besides, we both know you would break them, just like this morning. Now come with me. We need to talk." I turned to the Italian humming beside me. "Once you get your coat, please wait down here for us."

"Okay, Wiggie!" he agreed, taking my hand as we hurried up the stairs. "Do you think I made Mattie upset? I didn't mean to! Should I say I'm sorry?"

I paused a moment, surprised that he had noticed. "No…it is probably best to forget that it happened," I said after a moment of thought. "However, I do believe you should keep those things to yourself. You cannot just spit out whatever you are thinking."

He looked down sadly as I handed him the alabaster coat. "I didn't mean to, Wiggie," he repeated. "I just thought they looked so cute together!"

"I know," I muttered, putting my hand on his head. "I am sure Matthew was never angry with you. He is just…shy. Now, I will meet you downstairs in a few minutes."

Feliciano nodded, pulling on his jacket and giving me a quick kiss before bounding away.

I turned my attention to Gilbert, who was sitting on the loveseat in front of the fireplace, his arms crossed indignantly across his chest. "What, West? The awesome me has better things to do than listen to you squawk at him!"

"I am not going to yell at you. That is not what this is about. I simply want to know something." I gazed out the balcony window into the forest, trying not to remember last night as I formed the question in my head . "Once I get the money, we are going to move to America, because that is what Feliciano wanted. Are you going to come with us? Or would you rather stay here? I know you are ignorant, but even you have to see how Matthew feels about you."

He spun to look at me, his eyes burning with interest. "…How does he feel?"

"You…" I grit my teeth, trying to keep my patience. "Well, how do you feel about him?"

Sheepishly, he started playing with one of the fringed pillows on the couch. "Weird! Because usually when I see someone so sexy I just want to fuck them! But I don't want to just fuck Mattie, I kind of want to kiss him and make him laugh and hold him, too…"

"That's probably similar to how he feels, though with less perversion. Now that you've examined that, answer the question. Do you want to stay here with him?"

"Yes," he muttered quietly. "I like it here."

I nodded, trying to imagine life without my brother again. It would certainly be quieter. I couldn't help but smile at the thought. No more scolding him for being an idiot, no more nonsensical comments, no more obnoxiousness…it would just be Feliciano and I, alone. Of course, I felt empathy for Matthew having to deal with him, but that was his choice. He could say no, though he wouldn't. Opposites really did seem to attract.

"West, what are you smiling at?! It's really creepy!"

I wiped the grin off my face, pulling on my own green jacket. "Nothing. Hurry up and get your coat."

The supermarket was, in fact, a crowded place to go on a Saturday afternoon. I was sure every citizen of Ottawa was there picking up groceries, all going about their routines. The majority of them kept to themselves, but some of them watched us curiously as we passed by, having short conversations with Matthew. I was surprised by the amount of people he seemed to know for someone so shy. Often, their eyes drifted towards Gilbert, like they had never seen someone albino in real life before. He clearly enjoyed the attention, grinning in the spotlight… It wasn't until he opened his mouth and spoke to me that the gazes turned venomous and unfriendly as they passed.

"What did I do?" he asked me, not making the connection.

"Nothing," I sighed, watching as Matthew's expression grew increasingly distressed with every ugly look thrown our way. "We make them uncomfortable because of where we're from."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "That's stupid! The awesome me loves Canadians! Tell them I love them, West!"

"Tell them yourself," I grumbled, trying not to meet anyone's eyes for too long as I perused the aisle after Feliciano.

"Pasta, pasta sauce, meatballs, cheese~!" he sang, oblivious to the racism behind him. "Wiggie, do you know where the flour is?" Turning to me, he seemed to notice the menacing aura that was now slowly making its way through the whole store. "What's wrong?"

Matthew was keeping pace with Gilbert, hurrying to catch up with Feliciano and I. "Guys, I'm really so sorry," he said as he approached, his eyes troubled. "I didn't think about how other people would react. I mean…this is awful…" He bit his lip, trying not to cry. "Maybe we should leave. I hate to put you in this position."

"Mattie?" Gilbert awkwardly reached out and took his hand. "I love Canadians," he said seriously, finally saying a whole sentence in English.

Matthew blushed again, smiling down at his shoes. "Th-that's good."

"Me too, _ve_~! They're so nice! I asked this one guy if he would show me where the beer was, and he gave me his whole basket full!" Feliciano said, holding it up as evidence.

I stared blankly. When had that happened? I'd been following him the whole time…Either way, I was sure there was a reason that man had disposed of the stuff. Suspiciously, I snatched the basket away from him and pulled out a can, studying it with narrowed eyes. "What is wrong with it?" I asked Matthew.

He took it from me. "Well, nothing really…it's just kind of expensive….maybe we should get something that I can afford?"

I grimaced; that man had clearly heard Feliciano's accent and assumed he wouldn't understand the money system here. Trying to trick him into paying more money than necessary. I placed the alcohol back on the shelf where it belonged and handed the basket to Matthew. "I think it may be best if you carry it from now on."

"Okay," he agreed.

We made short work of the store from that point on, grabbing what we needed and paying, ignoring the cashier's face as we wandered to his register. Next, we visited a clothing store and purchased clothes that didn't make us all look completely ridiculous, where I promised to pay Matthew back once I was able to find a job.

"No, it's fine," he said, appraising our new looks with satisfaction, his eyes lingering on Gilbert. "Actually, that scene in the grocery store made me realize something. It's going to be very difficult for you to find a job here...Seeing the way everyone acted made up my mind. I'm going to re-open the Bed and Breakfast for sure, and I would like to ask all of you to work there for me. It'll be a lot of hard work to get things going again, but I'll do the best I can to pay you what you need to get your life in America started."

Feliciano smiled hugely, his excitement tangible. "That's so fun! I can work with you and Wiggie and Gilbert!"

"That's right," Matthew said. "Actually, Feliciano, I was wondering if you would take care of the housework? You'd just have to clean the rooms and maybe cook, if you wanted to."

Feliciano nodded energetically, resembling a bobble head. "I'm so happy!"

"And what about Gilbert and I?" I asked, wondering what use my brother had to him.

"Well, for you I was thinking you could work on all the mechanical issues the house is having. And for Gilbert…I knew the moment I met him that he should be the one to get the word out about the place being re-opened. I would have him write an article about it for the paper, maybe ask Gilbird to translate it into English for me, and then I would edit out the problems. It's really too much to ask…but I would love to have you guys stay for just a bit longer. It feels really nice to have a family again."

I gave him a grin, disbelieving the easy break that had been handed to us. "I understand. Thank you very much; I think we would all love to accept your proposition."

Matthew smiled back, glancing up at the old house as we pulled into the driveway. "Time for my dad's dream to come true."


	16. Buried Treasure

The springtime air was warm, playing with the auburn tendrils around Feliciano's face as he bent intently over the garden he had planted, putting the final touches on it. His hand swiftly plucked out the last of the deadheads and debris, giving the flowers a defined, clean appearance. Satisfied that he had tended to everything, he brushed the pile of filth away and, with an eager grin, stepped back to admire the work he had done. Even I was stunned; who could have known that Feliciano would have such talent at gardening? Yet there it was, an incredible collection of multihued flowers, their colors and scents meshing perfectly.

He clapped his hands together, ecstatic, before turning to me. "What do you think, Wiggie? Is it pretty?"

"It is very nice," I praised, moving to stand next to him. "I did not know you were good with flowers."

His face lit up. "I love flowers~! They're so beautiful and they smell really nice! I hope Mattie likes them!"

I stared at the assignment that Matthew had given Feliciano a couple of months ago, wanting to smile. He had asked Feliciano to plant a few flowers out front when spring came, just to grab the attention of those who drove by and make them stop. Of course, the Italian had taken that and had let his creativity get the better of him…I doubted Matthew knew what was in store for him.

"I am sure he will love it," I answered, catching a loose strand of his hair and tucking it behind his ear, much to his delight.

He caught my hand, intertwining our fingers. "What about you, Wiggie? Are you almost done fixing everything in the house?"

I nodded, looking out at the swaying foliage of the forest as another gust blew through. "Almost."

Since the day we had arrived here in the heart of winter, this house had felt like a home; now, in mid-March, I felt even more attached to the life we had created here. After Matthew had hired us to re-open his Bed and Breakfast, everything had seemed to fit into place like a puzzle. We had all adjusted to our lives here so easily…it was comfortable, peaceful. There was not a single day that passed that made me unhappy or restless.

I knew that would make it much harder to say goodbye and once again go back into uncertainty.

"What are you thinking about, Wiggie?" Feliciano asked, his eyes trained on my face. "You look kind of sad."

My eyebrows furrowed. I knew I had to ask. "Is leaving here still what you would like? Do you still want to go live in America? Or are you happy here?"

He seemed confused by my question, wiping some beading sweat from his forehead and brushing the dirt off of his pants. "I'm happy wherever you are!" he answered with a smile, but it was obvious that I had thrown him for a loop. "I like having a family here, with Mattie and Gil…but also I want to just be with you, Wiggie. I love you~! You're the most important!"

I looked into his innocent eyes, saw the unending love and devotion reflected there. "What would you like for your birthday?" I asked randomly, wondering myself where the thought had come from.

But he just giggled, not caring about that. "Hmm….I want to eat a dinner cooked by you, _ve~_!"

"Really?" I asked, puzzled. My cooking abilities were nothing special. "That is all?"

He thought about it, a pleased grin flashing onto his face. "And then I want to dance with you!"

I grimaced, wishing I hadn't opened my mouth at all. "Uh…no. I do not believe you want that…" Self-consciously, I remembered the time my mother had put Gilbert and I in dance classes. Within days, we had both been removed; Gilbert for being inappropriate and me for having two left feet.

"Come on, Wiggie! It'll be really fun!"

Before I could protest any further, Matthew emerged from the garage coated in grease, and hurried over with an excited smile. "You finished it! It's amazing, Feliciano! You did great! This will definitely get attention from people. Thank you."

"You like it? Yay!" Feliciano cheered, squeezing my hand.

"You're skills are really impressive," Matthew admired, leaning down to get a closer look. "Every time I try to grow plants they die…"

"The secret is to talk to them with lots of love! Like this!" He dropped my hand and bent down beside Matthew, stroking the bud of a lily. "Hello, little lily! You look so beautiful today! I bet, once you open up and let your flower show you'll even be the prettiest flower in the whole garden! But don't push yourself; take your time so that you can grow up big and strong, okay? I'll be waiting!" He straightened again, looking pleased. "Soon, it will be a big, beautiful lily!"

Matthew seemed speechless at the little display, unsure what the right thing to say was. "Are you sure that works?" he finally asked.

Feliciano nodded spiritedly. "Yep! It always works for me! Flowers are kind of shy, so you have to let them know that it's okay to come out and play!"

"Oh," Matthew said, nodding. "Then I'll try that next time."

Sensing the conversation coming to a close, I threw in the question that had been lingering in the back of my mind since the moment Matthew had appeared. "Where has my stupid brother gone?" I asked. It was rare to see him not stalking the Canadian.

"Gilbert?" he said, his eyes drifting back to the garage. "He's still in there. He found my radio and asked if he could borrow it…all day he's been listening to nothing but a talk channel. I don't really know why, but if that's what he likes to listen to…" He shrugged.

"He is trying to learn English," I responded automatically, understanding my brother's intentions. "Although I'm not sure why he expects he can accomplish that when he has no idea what the words mean."

"Of course…sometimes I forget that we can't understand each other. He's very expressive, especially with his eyes, so it's not hard to tell what he's thinking." His expression turned soft. "Every day he works hard to fit in here, to try and make himself belong. Soon, he isn't going to need anyone's help anymore."

I resisted the urge to scoff. Knowing Gilbert, it would take him the rest of his life, even if he was working hard. Still…I had to give him points for trying, especially since he was trying for Matthew. "Someday," I agreed.

"Well, at least he's good with cars," Matthew said. "He fixed the screeching noise."

I raised an eyebrow. "Very stereotypical. But I suppose he always has been better at things like that than school...screeching noise?"

He gave a sheepish nod. "I guess it needed new brakes…well, I better get back in there. I just wanted to see the garden! Again, it really is beautiful, Feli. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome~! What would you like me to do now, boss?" he asked, saluting.

Matthew looked thoughtful for a moment, accidentally wiping a grease-coated hand through his hair and staining it with black. "Um, that's good enough for today, actually," he said with a smile. "You two can just relax for the rest of the day. Maybe take a walk? I found a map in the garage that has a marked trail and I was curious as to where it leads. I thought about asking if Gilbert wanted to go, but we're still busy, so…"

Feliciano nodded enthusiastically. "Okie dokie!"

We followed Matthew back into the garage, where Gilbert was still under the car, muttering something to himself. It took me a moment to realize he was trying to repeat the words on the radio, learning the sounds but not the meanings. His accent skewed the words slightly, yet they were relatively clear for someone who had never spoken English before.

Matthew stepped over Gilbert's exposed feet, going to a tool chest, and pulled out an old, yellowing piece of paper. "Here it is." He placed it in my extended hand, saying, "It looks like something of my father's, but I don't know anything about that trail. Please be careful."

I studied the withered map, eyeing the twisting curves and unreadable cursive handwriting that coated it. It didn't appear to lead anywhere in particular, other than eventually back to the house. "We will be back soon," I promised.

Putting my fingers to my lips, I whistled for my dogs. If we were going into an unknown environment, it would be safer to have some sort of protection. Even if that 'protection' was three seriously overweight canines. They waddled into the garage one at a time, unable to resist giving Gilbert some slobbery kisses before coming to sit by my side.

"AGH! YUCK!" He flailed out, smacking his head on the bottom of the car. "West! Keep your fucking mutts away from me!"

I smirked, petting my dogs' heads with satisfaction as we walked out the door. Feliciano giggled, following, while Gilbert started a long string of cusses that I was suddenly glad Matthew couldn't understand behind us.

When we were outside, he wrapped his hand in mine again, grinning up at me. "Where does the trail start, Wiggie?"

Glancing down at the paper, I pointed to a small opening in the trees right beside the garage. There didn't seem to be any specific path visible from here, which immediately made me wonder if bringing Feliciano was a good idea. But he skipped over fearlessly, pulling me after him into the thinned foliage, dodging the low-hanging tree branches with ease.

"I hope there's buried treasure, _ve~_!" he said as we trudged through the barely marked area.

"The path just leads back to the house," I told him. "There is no treasure."

He pouted at my lack of imagination. "But anything could be treasure, Wiggie!" he protested, half-tripping over the root of a large tree. "Whoever made this map must have wanted everyone to see what he found and share it together!"

I tried to consider that, but the deeper the trail twisted into the forest, the more I began to believe there was nothing to this map. The sky was no longer visible; we were in near to pitch darkness, winding our way into even more emptiness. A sudden, surprising memory hit me; one of running as fast as I could go through the trees in the dead of night, gasping for air, tripping on the thick ice and snow, thinking there was nowhere to run, no way to possibly escape…and holding an unconscious man in my arms while I did it.

It had been so long since I had allowed myself to think about escaping Auschwitz. It was something my mind tended to suppress, but there were still images, days, things that I couldn't make myself forget. I could feel the stress flooding back again, the ache in my shoulder, the adrenaline. My heart pounded as if it were happening again now, the overwhelming urge to save Feliciano the only thing keeping me going. Despite telling myself that it wasn't real, I couldn't bring myself to calm down. The dogs whined in distress, feeling my sudden mood change, but that only furthered the horrible memory. Running from the Nazis' Shepherds, being forced to kill them or die…that had been one of the most difficult moments of my life.

My hand tightened forcefully around Feliciano's as I tried to keep a grip on reality. I hadn't expected this simple walk through the woods to trigger anything.

"Wiggie?" Feliciano asked. "What's wrong? That kind of hurts…."

I eased my hold, trying to keep my voice steady as I muttered, "I'm sorry."

He was quiet for a moment, maybe listening to my breath drag in and out heavily, before I felt him give my hand a gentle squeeze. "Look, Wiggie! There's a clearing!"

My eyes settled on the visible sunlight through the trunks and it took all I had in me not to bolt over there, to get out of the nightmare inducing dark. Instead, we walked at a normal pace that nearly drove me crazy until we finally pushed past the last plant, entering a small field where the sun seemed to touch everything, sending the small, clear pond glistening and giving the wildflowers a brightness they would not have possessed on their own. It reminded me of Feliciano's garden…except for the water.

"It's so beautiful!" he gushed, hurrying over to the pond. "This is the treasure!"

I stood back, leaning against a tree and trying to contain myself. My shoulder throbbed with phantom pains, my eyes closing as I struggled to settle my heart rate. It had been four months. It was ridiculous to have these problems now.

I didn't hear him approach me, so when I felt Feliciano's arms wrap around my waist I jumped. "Feliciano," I breathed with relief.

He was gazing up at me with concern, with empathy. I knew he had been there; nearly every night, he woke up shaking and sobbing with fear. His memories were just as clear as mine. But he remained cheerful, even through the pain. Just like me, he wanted desperately to get past everything that had happened, and his way of doing that was to laugh and smile everything away.

"It's okay to be scared, Wiggie," he murmured. "Everybody gets scared."

I looked down at him, speechless.

"I know! How about we go swimming, _ve~_? That'll make you happier!"

A small smile crept onto my face. "No, that will make you happier. Anyway, it is still too cold to go swimming. I do not want you to get sick."

But he had already let go of me and was stripping off his clothes, running towards the water. "Come on, Wiggie!" he yelled, jumping in with a laugh that echoed through the empty forest.

My dogs weren't far behind, leaving me alone in favor of Feliciano. Traitors.

I sighed, sitting myself down on a rather convenient rock and watching him play like a child. The sun beat down too intensely for the season, as if urging me to join Feliciano in the water in order to escape the heat, but I ignored it. I would not give in.

"Wiggie!" Feliciano came to the edge of the pond, his hair dripping in his face. "Don't you want to swim with me? It's not cold at all!"

One look at his eager eyes was all it took. "Alright," I relented. "But only for a few minutes. Then we need to move on." I was terrified to go back into the forest, to be barraged by those memories again, but I wanted to be out of here before the sun set.

Slightly self-consciously, I removed my clothes, setting them in a neat pile by the rock before joining him in the water. He hadn't been lying; it was surprisingly mild for it only being March. The dogs swam over to me happily, greeting me with their tongues. I could feel Feliciano's eyes on my back as I pet their soaked fur…the water only came up to just above my belly button, so it was pretty obvious what it was he was seeing. Something he hadn't been able to the night we'd had sex.

He came over and brushed his hand across the ugly scar on my shoulder, making me shudder. "Does it still hurt?" he asked sadly. "I remember…"

Abruptly, I turned and pulled his hand away. "No," I lied, trying to smile. "It only looks bad. Toris did a good job of cleaning it, so there is no more pain."

I could tell he didn't believe me, but he nodded anyway. Then, with an odd expression on his face, he reached down into the water and splashed me in the face, giggling.

"Agh!" I wiped the water out of my eyes, scowling at him. "What are you doing?"

He danced away from me. "Splashing you~!" he cheered. "Wiggie, your hair looks sexy when it's down!"

I glanced down at my reflection on the surface of the water. It simply looked wet and untidy to me. I resisted the urge to run my hand through it and looked back at Feliciano. He was sticking his hands into the pond, an intense look on his normally careless face.

"Yay, I caught it! Look, Wiggie, it's a cute little turtle!"

I hurried over to him, studying the thing. It was hidden in its shell, peeking out with wary eyes, but I was sure I recognized the shape…Just as I remembered, the turtle flew out and snapped Feliciano on the palm. Squeaking in shock, he dropped it back into the water and studied his injured hand with a pout.

"I guess he was cranky today…" he mumbled. "Sorry, Mr. Turtle."

I took his bitten hand in mine. "Be more careful," I ordered, satisfied that the skin had not been broken. "You have no idea what else is in this pond."

Feliciano nodded, and then stared off into space. After a minute or so of silence, he finally said, "You know, Wiggie…that turtle was kind of like my _fratello_! So cute, but always really cranky!"

I traced absent patterns on his hand, trying not to remember. "I suppose so."

"And turtles were his favorite animal!" I could hear him physically struggling to keep himself from crying. "Wiggie…I miss Lovi a lot."

I bit my lip. "I know," I said, trying to suppress the guilt.

"But I think he's still with us, like a guardian angel! I think it's thanks to him that we were able to reach Canada safely! I remember, when I was really sick on the boat, he was yelling at me for letting myself get hypothermia!" His voice cracked and he hugged me, crying quietly onto my naked chest. I thought I heard him sob, "Wh-why didn't they kill us both?"

My heart stuttered nervously. It was because of me. I recalled begging my superior to spare Feliciano, giving him my family ring just so he would keep him alive. I hadn't even thought to beg for Lovino's life as well…and it had come to be the worst mistake I had ever made. My thoughts had been so horribly single-minded then, so selfish, that the possibility of Lovino being murdered hadn't even crossed my mind. I had wanted Feliciano and nothing else.

I wiped the tears from his face, taking his chin and making him look at me. "I would have never let them kill you. I…had feelings for you from the moment you stepped off that train. I think even then I knew I would do anything to keep you alive. I am sorry for my selfishness." I leaned down, pressing my lips gently onto his.

He welcomed the comfort, his arms going around me gratefully.

I pulled away first, sensing that Feliciano wasn't going to let go anytime soon. "We should go back," I breathed, not wanting to take this too far. "Matthew and Gilbert will be wondering where we are."

I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but he agreed anyway, and we headed back. Thankfully, the way back to the house was not quite as bad as the way here had been, as Feliciano kept my mind occupied. He talked endlessly about pointless things, filling my thoughts with nonsense. It kept the fear at bay until we reached the house again, and by then, there was no longer anything to be afraid of.

Matthew was the first to spot us as we came back into the house, dripping wet. "What happened?" he asked, bringing us towels. "What was on the trail?"

"It was a beautiful clearing, with a pretty pond! We went swimming and it was really nice!" Feliciano explained. "You and Gil should go sometime!"

"Maybe we will…" Matthew's voice trailed off in my mind, their conversation no longer my focus.

Suddenly I knew exactly what to get Feliciano for his birthday. "Matthew," I interrupted, earning curious stares from both of them. "I am going into town. Do you need anything?"

The Canadian looked baffled. "Uh…no…Are you sure you want to? Last time was kind of…rough."

"Yes, there's something very important I need to get."

"O-okay, well, I'm going to start on dinner, so hurry back," he said. "Do you want to help, Feli?"

Feliciano looked torn. "Well…"

I shook my head. "Stay here. This is not something you should be involved in."

He nodded, turning to Matthew with a bright smile. "Okay!"

The moment my hair had dried and I was decent again, I hurried into town with my paycheck. It was a little unnerving not knowing where I was going, but I was sure if I looked carefully, I would be able to find it. Nobody paid any attention to me as I walked along the street; of course, Matthew hadn't taken into account that Gilbert was a loud, attention hog. It wasn't surprising that people saw him. Now that I knew being German was going to bring me trouble, I would do my best to blend in.

I paused at a promising store and went in. The petite woman at the desk looked up as the bell rang, her smile almost overly friendly as she greeted me. "Hello, sir! How can I help you today?"

"Do you have any Dachshund puppies?" I asked, conscious of my accent.

However, it didn't seem to bother the girl at all. "Actually, we have quite a few. People aren't really adopting them…Come on back!"

I followed her through a room full of cages and howling dogs to the end, where a whole litter of Dachshund puppies were fighting and playing with each other. My eyes were immediately drawn to a long-haired, double dappled one in the back. I pointed to it and she took him out for me.

"Good choice! He's definitely the cutest," she said as we walked back to the counter. "So, I'll just need you to sign a few papers and you're good to go."

My eyebrows furrowed. "No fee?"

She shook her head. "Not for those puppies. They're free."

I shrugged, filling out the paperwork with one hand and holding the tiny dog in the other. "Thank you," I said, shoving the clipboard back her way.

"You're welcome! Oh, by the way, I think you're accent is really cool." She grinned. "Have a nice day!"

I thanked her again politely, holding the squirming puppy close to me, and headed back out into the street. People stared at me this time as I walked by, a large man carrying a tiny Dachshund, but they were no longer important to me. All I wanted was to get back to Feliciano.

"Your new owner is going to treat you very well," I told the puppy. "No more discrimination just because you're German."

The dog barked, curling up in my arms as I hurried back to the house. It seemed to take less time to get back than it had to get into town and soon, I was pushing open the door. "Feliciano," I called into the quiet house.

He skipped into the hallway, beaming. "Welcome back, Wiggie! What's that?"

I swallowed, holding the sleepy puppy up to him and looking him in the eyes. "I know it is a little early, but …Happy birthday, Feliciano."


	17. Big Brothers

**Hello all :) Just a few important things before you read on: I must thank my friend Jenny for the name of the Dachshund puppy~ Oh what would i do without her inability to say polka dot? XD And sorry if i got some things wrong in any of my explanations...of things...thanks for being patient with me and i hope to be finishing this story up soon! Please enjoy~**

The Bed and Breakfast opened up again right in time for the beginning of summer. Already, it was fairly popular, and not only with newlywed couples; people of all sorts showed up to spend some quality time with their partners. It wasn't long before Matthew was asking me to expand the building so that we could have room for more visitors. I had agreed to his request without a second thought…it was obvious that with business booming the way it was, an expansion would open up even more possibilities. It was a complete success story, from top to bottom.

The best part was that those who stayed here were always kind enough to thank all four of us for our hard work, even despite knowing where Gilbert and I came from. It was very pleasant to be recognized for who I was now, not who I had once been. A fresh start, a new chance. They even joked along with my brother, who had managed to pick up a few things since he came here, which was a big surprise. It took a lot of patience to get along with him. The ignorance and fear of the first few months we had spent here seemed to be slipping away with every couple that walked out our door.

It was terrifying; how much longer could this happiness last?

I walked downstairs carrying the large box of tools and thinking absently about how much money I had managed to save up; it was already quite a bit, what with Matthew being a generous boss, but was it enough to support Feliciano? And how could I be sure I wouldn't be met with the same racial discrimination in America that I had met here? Finding a real job would be difficult…it really seemed the pros of remaining in Canada outweighed the cons. Here, I was already employed, and the people were starting to warm up to us. We had a roof over our heads, food to eat, a family…Securities that we would relinquish the moment we stepped across the border. So lost in thought, I almost didn't see the man talking with Matthew at the door.

He wore a dark suit, complete with a purple tie, slicked back, black hair, and an easy-going grin. I was instantly suspicious.

But Matthew, who was usually very shy, seemed at ease. Hearing me come down the stairs, he gave a grin and waved me over. "Ludwig, this is Mr. Pineau. He visited us a few weeks ago and has something he'd like to ask you."

I set the box down on the couch and hurried over, shaking the man's hand as he extended it. "Please, call me Thomas," he said with a crinkled grin. "So you must be the builder! This may sound odd, but I noticed how beautifully constructed the rooms were when I came here a few weeks ago for my anniversary, and I had to ask the owner here who had built them. You see, I running a construction company and I've been looking to hire someone for building layout. Your designing skills are incredible…Have you had experience before, Mr. Beilschmidt?"

Stunned, I stared at the man dumbly for a moment before shaking my head. "No, sir. I am a complete amateur."

Thomas seemed pleasantly surprised. "Incredible. Nonetheless, I still would like to ask you…will you join my team? We've been thinking of creating a new hotel in this city and with your help, I'm sure we could take a very stylistic approach. You'd need a little bit of training, of course, but we'd offer that to you ourselves."

Immediately, my mind went to the fact that a real job would give me much less time to spend with Feliciano. Every day working here, I'd been fortunate enough to be able to be with him, listen to him, see him…know he was safe. I didn't want to leave him alone so suddenly. I knew how terrified and miserable he got when he thought there was nobody there with him. But this offer was an incredible opportunity. Even if I didn't trust this man's smiling face, he was telling me he would hire me the way I was. I was positive nothing like this would ever happen again.

"May I…have time to think about it?" I asked uncertainly.

"Absolutely! I can see why this would seem suspicious to a man who has been through as much as you. Matthew was telling me about your past, an incredible story. You could make a lot of money off a survival tale like that!" He chuckled, patting me on my bad shoulder. "But you can trust this request. Here's my card. Give me a call when you've decided what you'd like to do!"

I took the small rectangular piece of paper, giving him the best smile I could muster. "Thank you, Mr.- I mean, Thomas."

"No problem at all!" Thomas shook my hand once more, winking at Matthew, and made his exit.

So that was why I hadn't trusted him. Dumbfounded, I looked from the card in my hand to the flushed Canadian beside me. "You…" It was hard to voice the question that had arisen in my mind, especially when it was him I was speaking with. "Did you, er, help me get this job…?"

Matthew, seeing the true direction of my query, shook his head frantically. "N-no! I would never do that!" He looked down at his shoes in embarrassment. "H-he asked about you when he was here, so I told him how helpful you'd been around here….I asked him to come back sometime and talk to you. It was nothing…like that…"

Sympathetically, I nodded. "I understand. I am sorry for asking something so weird…but you did help me. Thank you very much." After a moment, I shoved the piece of paper in my pocket, and started back for the box of tools. "He, uh, seemed to like you, though," I added.

"He…he knew my father. Actually, he was in charge of building this house…when my father decided he wanted to open the Bed and Breakfast, he hired his old friend to help create his vision with him. That's probably why he was surprised by your work…it went so well with his that he couldn't help but marvel." Matthew sighed, starting toward the ringing phone.

"An old friend of your father's…" I muttered as he uttered a greeting to our next client.

I heard him give a small gasp. "Alfred? C-calm down, I can't understand when you talk…so fast…"

Alfred? Hauling the box into my arms, I tried to remember why that name sounded so familiar. Focusing on that, I didn't see the Dachshund puppy until he had darted under my feet, giving a surprised yip when my foot made contact with his side. I did my best to keep my balance, but I could feel my fingers slipping from the load I was carrying.

"Pottadot!" Feliciano cried, running down the stairs and covering his eyes as I dropped the tools.

I cringed, waiting for the puppy to squeal as he was crushed to death…but it never came. Instead, I felt him jump up on my leg, dutifully checking to see if I was okay. Sighing in relief, I picked Pottadot up, stroking his long fur and trying to calm my racing heart. "Don't do that," I whispered to him in German.

I heard a whimper, Feliciano barreling towards us both with tears running down his cheeks. "I-I'm so sorry, Wiggie! He got away from me, and-and-and-"

I caught him with my free arm. "Feliciano…it is okay. The dog is fine. I know it was an accident."

"But you…and he….and…." There was still panic in his eyes.

Exhaling, I pressed my lips against his once. "There is nothing to worry about," I muttered, handing him the puppy. "Everything is okay."

"Kesesese~ Get a room, West!" Gilbert snickered, walking through the room with sleep-mussed hair and trying out his new favorite English phrase.

I scowled at his back as he entered the kitchen, greeting Matthew with an obnoxiously loud hello. "He never gets better," I grumbled, letting go of Feliciano. "Still annoying, except now everyone can understand him."

Feliciano put Pottadot down, giggling as the puppy ran across the room to cuddle with my dogs for a nap. "But don't you like having a big brother, Wiggie?"

I thought about that, remembering all the times he had terrorized me when we were children; shoving my head in the toilet, convincing me to lick a frozen pole in the dead of winter, giving me noogies….things that I would never forget, probably as long as I lived. "No."

Just then, Matthew burst out of the kitchen, his eyes full of tears, Gilbert trailing him. I could only assume he had done something wrong.

"Mattie?! What is it? Tell the awesome me!" he begged, grabbing at the other man's shirtsleeve.

So it hadn't been him. Huh.

"I need to…I need to pack some things," Matthew said, shaking Gilbert off. "My mom…I have to go to America for a little while." With that, he hurried up the stairs, leaving us all gaping after him.

A silence filled the room as we all listened to him frantically throw things in a bag upstairs, sobbing louder than I'd ever heard him talk. His mother, he'd said.

And then, suddenly, it clicked in my mind. Alfred was his older brother.

"What happened?" I asked Gilbert, who was staring up the steps and somehow looking even more pale than usual.

"The awesome me didn't do it! I walked in and he was on the phone with somebody, so I said hello really loudly so that would hear me! But then I realized his tone was all stressed sounding and he was upset, so I was going to get some food, but then he hung up crying and I followed him out here!

"That was his brother he was talking to. Something must have happened to their mother," I explained, feeling a twinge of empathy. "I am sure he will explain before he leaves."

Feliciano started up the stairs after Matthew, always consoling, but I grabbed the Italian's hand, holding him back. "No… it may be best if you leave him alone for now."

"But, Wiggie…" He looked up at me.

I shook my head. "Not now."

Gilbert sank down onto the couch, flinching every time Matthew's cries grew louder. "My birdie…" he mumbled, dropping his head in his hands.

His birdie…? Somehow, I had the feeling he wasn't talking about the Gilbird.

After another few minutes, when everything had quieted down, a door creaked open and Matthew came back downstairs, carrying backpack full to the brim. His face was completely miserable, tear-stained and flushed with distress.

"I…I'm going to be going away for a few days," he mumbled, his voice still choked. "My mom collapsed and was rushed to the hospital…from what Alfred said…" He bit his lip, eyes brimming with new tears. "She may not be around too much longer…Please take good care of this place while I'm gone."

"I want to go with you," Gilbert said, leaping to his feet, understanding enough of the conversation to get what was happening.

Matthew shook his head, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. "N-no, you have to stay here." He allowed a sad excuse for a smile to flicker onto his lips. "Who else can I trust to be in charge while I'm gone?"

Gilbert looked away, his ruby eyes troubled. Then he stood, hugging him hard and giving him a passionate, totally inappropriate for the moment kiss. "I love you," he whispered.

Matthew seemed surprised, but muttered an "I love you, too," anyway, before turning and heading out the door.

"Be safe, _ve~_," Feliciano called after him, already starting to sniffle.

"I will," he promised, getting in the car. With a low groan of protest, the automobile heaved to life and sped away.

I stared after him desolately. Did he honestly expect us to work with so little? Without him here, I was sure the institution would fall apart. How had everything deteriorated so quickly? Just an hour ago, luck had come knocking on the door. Now there was no way I could accept a job and leave Gilbert and Feliciano to run this place. An air of depression hung tangibly over the room as we all realized what we'd been left to deal with.

"Well, we had better get back to work," I stated. "That phone is still ringing with people attempting to make reservations and we must tend to the guests we already have. Being useless will not help Matthew."

Feliciano nodded, hurrying into the kitchen. "I'll make lunch~!"

"Right. I will answer the phone, since Gilbert is still learning English," I sighed, trudging after Feli and picking up the phone.

Gilbert just moped and pet Matthew's polar bear.

We went on like that for hours, doing everything we could to make up for our boss's absence. Somewhere along the line, Gilbert disappeared…I could only hope he had found something useful to do with his time. By the end of the night, both Feliciano and I were all but unconscious. Had Matthew always done so much on his own? It seemed we had taken his role in this business for granted. He was truly a strong man.

"Wiggie?" Feliciano asked, snuggling closer to my side on the couch. "I hope Mattie's mama makes it so he won't be lonely."

"_Ja_," I murmured, closing my eyes. "Me too."

I felt his lips moving on my neck and, after taking a moment to fight off embarrassment, couldn't help but wonder where he stored his excess energy. I was completely drained. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't actually kissing me; he was singing something. Raising an eyebrow, I struggled to depict the words…but by the time I was listening, he had already fallen asleep. Puzzled, I let myself drift slowly into sleep imagining what he had been saying.

I didn't know how many hours had passed when my eyes flew open again, from the horrible nightmare. Shuddering, I pushed away the images, and looked around in the pitch darkness. Feliciano was still beside me, breathing heavily…where were we? Then I remembered that we had fallen asleep on the couch and sighed. It would be better to bring Feliciano to a bed…A knock sounded at the door.

I stopped, my thoughts racing. What time was it? It was still dark outside, not a normal time for someone to come meandering to a Bed and Breakfast. Maybe I had just imagined it.

The sound came again, louder this time, more desperate. Immediately, I stood and stared through the peephole, hoping to catch some glimpse of what lay on the other side. I knew I could win in a fist fight, but if it was somebody with a weapon…A tuft of grayish-white hair became visible through the black night. Gilbert. I yanked the door open in shock, wondering how he had gotten out without me noticing.

"Gilbert, what-" I began.

He swayed a little, leaning into me. I felt something warm and sticky run down my arm. "West," he groaned, looking up. There was a large gash across his forehead that went in a good inch deep or more, oozing blood all over his face, and his lip was busted in a few different places. "Why?" he asked, clutching onto my shirt and gasping with wounded eyes. "The awesome me…just wanted to have a few beers."

I held him steady, stunned, and brought him in the house. "Gilbert?" I turned on a light, gently setting him down on the couch beside Feli. "What happened to you?" I frantically tried to remember where Matthew kept the bandages and how I was going to get Gilbert to a hospital without a car...or even where the nearest hospital was.

"I wanted some beers," he mumbled, "so I went to a bar. I asked for some…but I accidentally said it in German…" He gave me a stricken look. "I thought things had changed since we first came here, West. They hate me…the Canadians hate me," he lamented, hugging his legs to his chest.

I shook Feliciano. "Feliciano, where are the bandages? Wake up!"

His eyes flickered opened, a lazy smile coming onto his face when he saw me. Then he looked at Gilbert and the joking left his expression with a stifled squeal. "Wiggie!" he gasped, as if I couldn't see that blood was dripping down my brother's face. "Gil is all bloody!"

"I know that! Tell me where Matthew keeps his medical supplies!" I said, a little more harshly than I'd intended. To try to soften the strictness, I tacked on a "Please."

His eyebrows turned up as he tried to remember. "I…I think he keeps them in the bathroom in his room…?"

I tried not to be annoyed by his uselessness, hurrying into Matthew's room and digging through the cabinets. There was nothing but an angry polar bear cub, who growled at me as I exited. "No," I informed Feliciano. "Is there anywhere else you can think of?"

"M-Maybe one of the other bathrooms, _ve~_?" He seemed at a complete loss, his eyes shining with moisture. "I don't know…."

Gilbert watched me run all around, pressing his hand to the wound. "I wish my birdie was here…" he grumbled, staring at nothing with unfocused eyes. "I could have had some beer."

"I will get you a beer after your injury has been treated," I promised him, going through a hall cabinet this time.

Luck was with us; a small white box sat inside. I pulled it out, rummaging through the contents. Disinfectant, bandages, tweezers, a stitching kit…it was everything I needed except for something to numb the pain. Hurriedly, I grabbed a towel from the kitchen before sitting down in front of him.

"How do you always manage to get yourself into trouble?" I wondered, wiping away the dried blood from his forehead. "I would have gone with you."

He flinched away. "The awesome me is strong enough to handle a bar fight without his little brother to help him!"

"So you say, but who is the one with glass shards in his forehead?" I muttered, disinfecting the cut and using the tweezers to remove the leftover pieces of a beer bottle. "Besides, this was no bar fight. You were attacked. These misconceptions must be stopped if you are going to live here for any extended period of time."

His scowl intensified and he jumped. "OW! What are we supposed to do? They called me a fucking Nazi! The awesome me wasn't even a Nazi! He was persecuted by his own people in Germany for being albino and now he's persecuted by his own Canadians for being German! Is there anywhere in the world where people will not look at my awesomeness with ragefaces?!"

I sighed heavily, taking out the stitching needle. "Quit moving around. Look, I am not sure what we will do yet, but it is obvious they expect us to earn our acceptance into their lives."

"Uh…West…?" Gilbert's eyes were huge, set on the needle's sharp point. "Wh-what are you going to do with that? West? Have you ever given someone stitches?"

"Of course," I lied. "I was trained how at an early age in order to better assist my fellow soldiers. You have nothing to worry about."

His gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Aren't you supposed to numb it first?!"

I glared back. "There was no numbing fluid in the kit. Now sit still or I will end up hurting you worse than I need to. Feliciano, get a clean towel."

Feliciano, who had been watching us in terrified silence, hurried into the kitchen and got another cloth. "Here you go, Wiggie," he said, handing it to me.

I took it, thanking him, and handed it to Gilbert. "Bite on this."

Incomprehensively and with a distrustful grimace, he put the cloth in his mouth. "Mmph!" he protested as the needle came closer.

"I will be as quick and efficient as I can. Remember: do not move." I swallowed back the nerves and slipped the needle into his skin, trying to convince myself I had seen more disturbing things in my life.

Being Gilbert, he immediately started struggling and yelling, despite my warnings. Against better wishes, and knowing that Feliciano would not be able to hold him, I pinned his arms down with my free hand and sat on his chest until the wound was no longer open. Satisfied that I had done nothing irreparable to him, I stood up and let him roll around for a second. He yanked the gag out, only to bite his fist instead, tears seeping out from the ends of his eyes.

"Damn it…" he whimpered, curling up into a ball.

I looked at him, his face so defenseless and pained for once, and I couldn't help but feel a stab of anger for whoever had done this to him. It wasn't right to be penalized for a crime you didn't commit. If anyone should have been beaten up for being a Nazi, it was me…Yet everyone had treated me fairly, even though I was the one who had murdered innocent people. Gilbert had had to hide for years and his only crime was being a gigantic pervert.

"Okay, now you can have your beer," I comforted, grabbing several and setting them in front of him. "It is the only numbing we have."

He scrambled for a can, chugging it within a matter of seconds. The rest quickly followed suit, until he was mumbling incoherent love declarations to me as I dragged him to his bedroom.

"Mattie, I'm glad you're here," he sighed as I placed him in his bed. "The awesome me will make you his br-bride." He was watching me as if he seriously thought he was talking to his boyfriend. "And then we can go for a honeymoon in my awesome party pants."

I rolled my eyes as I shut the door, leaving him alone to fall asleep.

A few days later, Matthew returned with good news; his mother had survived and was doing very well.

And, after much though about how to make things right, I decided the best I could do for my brother's welfare was accept Thomas's job offer to attempt to prove our worth through physical labor.


	18. Chance to Shine

**And another fic comes to an end...Thank you for those of you who have been supportive of me this whole time :) It made it worthwhile to hear all the great things you had to say to me! Now, I don't know who remembers me saying that my friend was going to write this from Feliciano's POV, but she's working on the first chapter and I'm sure she'll post it soon~ She goes by zukofan23, so please visit her page if you're interested! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this last installment of Devil's Dance and thank you again ;) Happy reading! **

I sat down on the cold leather couch in our bedroom heavily, my eyes staring absently into the fireplace as I tried to imagine how to begin. This moment had been put off for too long. Once or twice, I had even allowed myself to forget what had occurred, filing the memory in the subconscious of my mind. After all the good things that had happened, it was no wonder that the last thing I would be thinking about was my shameful life as a Nazi. But it still needed to be done…and it needed to be done well.

Already I had allowed over half a year to fly by since he'd died.

Two envelopes lay side by side on the faux wood of the coffee table, one full of money for Toris and Felix, the other still empty. I clutched my pen, trying to breathe normally. Somehow, I would tell Antonio what I had done. I would allow myself to go back to that time, so that I could let honesty flow through to the page. No excuses. No lies. Every word would be the truth, and nothing less.

_Dear Antonio,_

_ For months, I have struggled to come up with a way to say this…someway to make you understand without hating me for what I have done to you. Now, sitting here, I realize that that was impossible from the start. No matter what content this letter holds, the message is still the same. Lovino and his brother were taken by Nazi soldiers and brought to Auschwitz many months ago, in November. For a long time, they struggled for their lives…Being a Nazi soldier, I was in charge of the block in which they lived and watched them. Immediately, I took a liking to Feliciano; he was very…different. Perky, energetic, positive…I could not stop keeping him in my sight. And, as Lovino was always by his side, I helped him, too. I protected them to the best of my ability every time they were in trouble. But I was incredibly selfish. When I saw Feliciano, all I wanted was to bring him to safety, to somehow escape with him…I never once thought of taking Lovino as well._

I cringed, biting my lip as I remembered. So much meticulous planning put into escaping…Why hadn't I tried to remove them both before the lineup? How could I not have thought of that? If I had just seen the obvious answer, I would not have needed to write this awful letter. Everyone could have lived.

_For that, you will never understand how sorry I am. By the time I had planned everything out, it was Christmas Eve. That day, two lives were lost by my hands. The first was a young Jewish boy that my superior had ordered me to dispose of. I did as I was told…loyalty is not always a positive trait. Later, there was a surprise lineup…foolishly I bribed the General into keeping Feliciano alive. I was so filled with fear for him that I did not think for one moment to include his twin into our bargain. I left Lovino unprotected, a target for the General's sick game. We lined the prisoners up for the run, removing their clothes. I can imagine they must have felt very ashamed, being chased like frightened animals as they were. It was sick, this institution. But I went along with it, running after them with a gun, just as the other Nazis did. The General immediately gave me strict orders to bring him the dark-haired Italian…the moment the words left his mouth, I knew I had been tricked. Still, fearing for my own life, I brought him Lovino….even knowing what was going to happen, I brought him Lovino._

The words cut into me as I re-read them. They were painfully vivid, bringing a bout of nausea as I recalled what happened next. I had to keep writing. This was not about me. It never had been.

_The General shot him through the head. His death was not slow…it was over quickly. However, he did not die without saying one last thing to me. "Damn potato bastard, you better save-" Of course, the next word was Feliciano. I will never forget what I have done. The only thing I can do now, for you and for Lovino's soul, is keep Feliciano safe with me. I will do just that. We are no longer in any sort of danger; we escaped to Canada, where a friend of Francis's has been housing us. I'm sure you know Matthew. Anyway, I give you my word, for all that is worth to you, that Lovino's brother will survive this war. He is more important to me than myself. I know that none of this will make up for what I have taken, but this is all I have left to give. _

_ Ludwig Beilschmidt_

Drained, I lay back against the cushions, placing the finished letter on the table beside its envelope. I had finally done it, yet there was no relief from the guilt. Reliving the scene had only made everything seem more real to me.

A light knock sounded on the door as it creaked open, Feliciano entering and bouncing over to me. "Wiggie? What are you doing up here all alone?" he wondered, leaning over the back of the sofa. "You look scary…"

"I was just finishing up some work," I muttered, folding the letter so he could not read it and stashing it in the envelope.

He blinked, but gave me a smile anyway, sliding down until he was sitting beside me. "You work so hard~! Is your job fun, Wiggie?"

I thought about the designing work I had been hired for. "Not particularly," I said. "But if it will make us belong here…I would do anything to have Gilbert never be injured again." I shook my head. "Though it would be easier if he learned how to shut his mouth."

Feliciano laughed, laying his head on my shoulder. "Gil and Mattie are so cute! They're just like newlyweds, _ve~_! Ever since Mattie came back from his mama's house, they've been all lovey and kissy, especially when you're gone!"

I stared at him a moment, trying not to look disturbed. "Feliciano… that is something I could have gone without knowing."

"Oh! Sorry, Wiggie!" he apologized with a frown, his eyes catching on the letters as he looked down. Curiously, he reached over and picked them both up, much to my chagrin. "Toris and Feliks! I remember them~! They were so nice and helpful! You're giving them money?"

"That's right," I sighed, knowing he was just seconds from discovering the real reason I had locked myself up here.

"And this one's for…" His eyes widened and he met my gaze. "For Toni? Are you…telling him about…Lovi?"

Unable to take the loneliness that had invaded his face, I turned away. "Yes. He deserves to know."

I felt his hand, warm and soft, slip into mine. "I'm so glad you finally figured out what to say!" he said, to my surprise. "I know you've been trying for a long, long time…it's been sad watching you worry so much about it, Wiggie. But now that you've written it, we can get past this, _ve~_!"

I felt my confusion reflected on my expression. "You…what do you mean?"

"You finally said what you needed to say, so we don't have to go back to those scary memories anymore! We can start life over for real~!"

As what he meant sunk in, I felt my heart react to the sweet look on his face. "I do not know if I can completely forget what happened…but it would be nice to put it behind me. I will try," I promised, squeezing his hand in my own.

"Me too! Let's pinky swear that we will do our best, Wiggie!"

"Pinky swear…alright." I stuck out my pinky, feeling a little childish.

He took it in his, happiness practically exuding from him. "Yay! Now let's go mail the letters!"

I gave him a curt nod, embarrassed. He had said exactly the words I had needed…and so effortlessly. "Er, Feliciano?"

He looked up wonderingly, an easy grin on his lips.

"Thank you," I said, leaning down and kissing him quickly, before grabbing the letters and turning away, my cheeks flushed.

"Oh, Wiggie, you're so romantic~!" Feliciano giggled, skipping to my side. "Let's go on a date to celebrate our new life!"

I hurried down the stairs, bewildered and unable to think of an excuse out of his request. "Uh…where would you like to go?"

"Hmm~," he pondered, picking up Pottadot as we passed through the living room. "Where do you want to go, puppy?" The Dachshund licked his face happily, making Feliciano break into giggles. "Pottadot wants to go have a candlelit picnic dinner in the pretty hills beside Mattie's house!"

Trying not to sigh, I opened the door for him as we exited the house. "Interesting. But I am not going on a date with the wiener dog. What would _you _like to do?"

"He's got good ideas, Wiggie~! Let's do what he said!" Feliciano decided as I slipped the letters into the mailbox.

"Dachshunds are the dog breed of love!" Gilbert announced, appearing out of nowhere. "They make fucking!"

I spun around, glaring at him. "What? Where did you come from?"

He gave me an innocent look. "Fucking?"

"That is not-" I started, but then I abandoned the attempt. It wasn't worth it. "You should be focusing on learning conversational skills instead of curses."

"Kesesesese~," he chuckled. "West is so easy to annoy!"

I exhaled, tired of his ridiculous games. "You are too careless," I scolded, my eyes going to the white, fading scar on his forehead. "I would not be annoyed if you had any sort of sense in your head."

He frowned, noticing where my gaze had gone. Looking down, he not-so-nonchalantly tried to brush his gray hair over it and hide it from view. I recalled him doing the exact same thing every time Matthew had begun to ask about it…we had decided against telling him about the bar fight, as he was already stressed out about so many other things. Besides, it was not like we couldn't take care of ourselves. Gilbert just needed to stay away from social situations where he could be smacked with beer glasses.

"The awesome me has sense," he grumbled.

"Does it still hurt, Gil?" Feliciano asked, worried. "It looks better!"

Gilbert shook his head, displacing a disgruntled looking Gilbird from the top. He gave my brother a sharp peck before settling down again. "It feels like awesome!" he said, totally oblivious to the beak in his head.

"That's great~! Oh, I know! If you feel better, you and Mattie should join Wiggie and me for our date tonight! Right, Wiggie?" He gave my hand an eager tug.

I met my brother's eyes in horror, watching his face light up evilly. "Uh…Feliciano…"

"I will go ask Mattie!" Gilbert interrupted, bounding off into the house.

Feliciano smiled. "He looked so happy! I bet Mattie will be, too!" Seeing the reluctant look on my face, his eyes became serious, though the grin never faded. "Please?"

"Gilbert may ruin it," I warned, trying not to imagine the plethora of ways he would terrorize us.

"But maybe Mattie and Gil will make it even better! It can be a double date thingy, _ve~_!"

I scowled down at my feet as we walked back to the house. "Going on a date with my brother does not sound pleasant."

"You're not going with Gil, silly! You're going with me~!" Feliciano opened the door, meandering inside with me in tow. "Oh, I know! We never got to dance for my birthday, Wiggie, so how about I teach you something?"

"You are not even trying to make this desirable, are you?" I grumbled under my breath just as Gilbert ran through the room chasing Matthew with a squirt bottle and cackling like a witch. My eyebrows furrowed as I stared after them. "I thought he was asking Matthew if he wanted to go on a date, not playing some stupid game."

Feliciano laughed as the puppy in his arms struggled and leapt to the ground, chasing after the commotion. "That looks like fun!"

"Gilbert, stop!" Matthew groaned, running back into the living room dripping. "Not in the house…"

Gilbert snickered, squirting him one last time in the face, before setting the bottle back down. "Sorry, Birdie!" he said, though his expression said otherwise. "The awesome me wants…" His face scrunched up as he tried to think through the phrases in his head. "To ask…you on the date."

Matthew sighed, smiling despite the fact that he was soaked to the bone. "Gil…next time, just ask me, okay? You don't need to chase me around with water bottles to get my attention."

"He did the same thing to his date for the elementary school dance," I recalled, remembering how he had dropped water balloons on her head from the window. "Needless to say, he did not go to the dance that night."

Gilbert frowned at the memory. "She had awesome boobs!"

"It was a second grade dance. The girl was seven…She had no boobs."

Matthew looked down at his chest, blushing. "I guess you're making a habit out of dating people without boobs."

"But Mattie has sexy manhooters!" Gilbert said, "Which is even awesomer!"

The Canadian cheeks blazed. "Wh-where did you learn that…?"

"This is not important! Do you want to be on the date?" he asked. "You and your awesome manhooters?"

"Maybe…but first you have to quit saying that…" He looked away shyly, obviously embarrassed.

Gilbert took one of Matthew's hands and looked him straight in the eyes. "Go on the date and the awesome me will not say that."

"Alright…" he agreed, breaking their eye contact. "But please don't say it…"

My brother gave a wicked grin, hugging Matthew energetically and whispering something into his ear…something I was immensely glad I couldn't hear. Somehow Matthew seemed even more mortified than before.

"Now everybody is going!" Feliciano said triumphantly. "We're going to have a picnic on the hills by the house at dinner, okay? Then I'm gonna teach you all how to dance!"

Matthew nodded, trying feebly to escape Gilbert's embrace. "O-okay…is everybody going? Because I think there's a reservation tonight and-"

"Nope! They cancelled earlier today~! Now we're all free! And since it's the weekend, Wiggie doesn't have to work!" The Italian gave Matthew an encouraging smile. "Let's go make the food, since it's a picnic!"

Thankful for the chance to escape Gilbert's perversion, Matthew hurriedly followed Feliciano into the kitchen.

Later that night, when the sun had started making its descent in the sky, we all made our way out into the flowery hills that surrounded the Bed and Breakfast. Feliciano led us to the highest one, which had a view of the entire city of Ottawa, and set out our picnic beneath the cover of an old oak tree.

"That way, we can watch the beautiful sunset while we eat yummy food!" he explained, his eyes reflecting the saffron tint of the sky.

I helped him set out the dinner, surprised by how thorough he had been with packing all this food into one little basket. At the bottom, there was even a bottle of wine and some glasses hidden beneath everything. "When did you get this?" I wondered, setting it down gently.

He came to sit beside me, done with putting down everyone's plates. "That's Mattie's, _ve~_! He said he thought you two would prefer beer, but we couldn't make them fit, so we just brought some nice wine!"

"Matthew is very thoughtful," I muttered, gazing out at the disappearing sun. "Gilbert should be thankful….speaking of which, where did those two go?"

Feliciano giggled, cuddling into my side. "They went for a walk! They're going to come eat with us later~! Mattie said that this was a date, so we should spend some time alone at first. That means we can snuggle, Wiggie!" As if to emphasize his point, he scooted even closer.

I frowned deeply, feeling my cheeks heating up. "Men do not snuggle," I grumbled, knowing that he wouldn't stop.

"Oh! Then what do men do?" Feliciano asked, his voice light and happy.

"They…" I struggled to think of a relevant equivalent to hugging. "They do nothing."

He looked up at me, mocking sadness. "You want to do nothing, Wiggie? That's not how you get someone to want you!"

"There are more important things than being wanted," I said, not meeting his eyes. "Besides, snuggling does nothing to make someone more desirable."

"But Wiggie, snuggling with you makes me want you more~!" he told me, leaning up to make our lips meet.

I kissed him back for a moment, before pulling away, determined not to let myself fall under his spell twice. Even if he was gazing up at me with butterscotch puppy dog eyes and telling me that he wanted me, I would not let my control be shattered. As if he could hear my inner monologue, he gave me a smile that made his cheeks dimple slightly. I glanced down at the food in the basket, trying not to see him. But still, he didn't give up this strange game…He cuddled into me until he was practically sitting on my lap and kissed me again, determined to keep my attention. This time, I let the kiss last a little longer, his fingers going through my hair.

"It looks nice when it's down!" he whispered to me, mussing the blond strands until they were in my face.

Sighing, I leaned back against the tree, my arms going around him to bring him closer. His mouth tasted sweet, almost as if he had already drunk some of the wine. Still, even knowing that, I didn't break away. I felt dizzied by the intense turn this had taken, completely oblivious to everything but the warmth of his body on mine and the fluttering beats of our hearts. Somehow, he had won again…I groaned, trying to bring myself to be upset about that and failing.

"We should stop," I murmured through the fog in my mind anyway, knowing that the longer this continued, the more difficult it would be to end it. "Gilbert and Matthew…"

He smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. "It's okay, Wiggie! They won't be back until the sun sets all the way~!"

I stared at him a moment, his proximity skewing my coherent thoughts. "It has already set all the way," I pointed out. "The stars are coming out now."

A shocked look flickered onto his face and he turned away from me, gazing at the sky. "It went so fast! But it's really pretty! I've never seen this many stars, _ve_~!"

The constellations began to flicker visibly in the clear night sky, unmolested by the lights of the city below. Even the moon was absent tonight, giving the less vivid stars a chance to shine. Feliciano crawled beside me, lying down in the thick grass with excitement in his eyes.

"I can see a big plate of pasta~!" he told me, pointing his index finger at a glob.

I didn't see anything, but decided to follow his lead and play the game anyway. "Um…there's the Little Dipper…" I said, tracing its definite outline.

Feliciano laughed. "Wiggie, you're supposed to find things that don't exist!"

"Oh…" I stared hard at the sky, struggling to make pictures out of the haphazard dots. "This is a lot easier with clouds."

"The awesome me sees his five meters!" Gilbert shouted from a pathway by the woods. "Mattie sees it, too!"

I rolled my eyes, sitting up and quickly fixing my hair. Leave it to him to see his own penis in a black pit of nothing and then drag an innocent bystander into the mix. "It seems that they have returned," I said.

Feliciano bounced to his feet, putting out the food for everyone and attempting vehemently to light a candle. I helped him, not trusting the way he was holding the lighter, just as the other two came and sat down.

To my surprise, the dinner was actually more fun than I would have imagined, especially with Gilbert being there. Maybe it was just the wine speaking, but he seemed to be a lot more enjoyable company when Matthew was around. It was like Matthew was the antidote for his more obnoxious personality traits. Whatever it was, the whole thing went really well…until Feliciano stood after we had all finished eating and pulled out a radio from the basket.

"Now it's time for dancing!" he announced, his cheeks flushed.

I watched him trip over air, uncertain whether to stop him before he fell and hurt something. "Maybe we should skip the dancing…" I muttered, standing and steadying him.

He clutched at my hands, ignoring me and forcing me into the dance. "Put your foot like this~," he explained, "and then move your arm like this! And now, spin! Now move your other foot…Hehe, Wiggie, you're supposed to be leading, _ve~_!"

"I am not dancing," I informed him, watching as he spun around in front of me. "Therefore, I am not leading."

Gilbert stood, coming over and clapping me on the shoulder. "Then move aside and let a real man lead, West! Don't be such a pussy!"

Sighing, I unhinged Feliciano's fingers from my shirt and handed him off to Gilbert. "Alright. Show me how to dance, since apparently that is what qualifies a real man," I growled, going to sit back down.

Feliciano looked confused, but shrugged it off and taught Gilbert how to do the dance. It was undeniable; Gilbert was a lot more comfortable with dancing than me. He caught on fairly quickly and had it memorized in about half an hour. I watched him cling to Feliciano, feeling a spark of annoyance for both Matthew and myself. Feliciano was a little drunk, so I couldn't blame him for having a good time, but Gilbert…I felt that he was deliberately doing this to make me angry. Of course, it was my fault for refusing to dance, but he seemed to be having a little too much fun. It was fine to try to harass me, but it was hard to believe that he would hurt Matthew like this. I watched the Canadian's patient expression fade the longer they danced together, his eyes dropping to his lap and filling with sadness.

I couldn't let this go any further.

"Gilbert," I snapped. "How about you teach Matthew the dance?"

He paused mid-step, his crimson eyes shifting over to where Matthew sat, not looking at him. "Okay," he said, letting Feliciano go and hurrying over to his boyfriend.

I caught Feliciano, relieved to have him out of my brother's arms. It was surprising how upset that had made me. I'd never have thought of myself as the jealous type.

"Do you want to learn now, Wiggie~?" he asked me ecstatically. "We can do an easier one, if you wanna! Oh, I know! This song's slow, so let's do a slow one!"

"Alright," I agreed, knowing any type we did would be torture for me, regardless.

So he taught me a simple dance that involved very limited movement…It was perfect for me.

"Wiggie, you're not a bad dancer!" Feliciano told me, his arms wrapped around my neck. "You haven't stepped on my foot at all!"

I gave him a smile. "I did learn something from those dance classes when I was a child. Women get very angry when you ruin their shoes, even young ones."

He leaned into my chest, giggling at that. I reveled in the sound of his happiness; maybe this had been worth it. The song came to a close, a new one taking its place, and Feliciano gave a large yawn.

"It is getting late," I said, glancing over at Matthew and Gilbert, who had apparently bored of the song and were sitting down. "Maybe we should…"

Soft snoring drifted up to my ears. I shook my head, still in disbelief about easily Feliciano fell asleep, and pulled his sleeping form up into my arms.

* * *

A few days later, Feliciano and I were sitting at the table, discussing our future here in Canada. We had agreed that staying here was the best course of action, but that mooching off of Matthew was inappropriate. Even if Matthew insisted that he liked having us here, it was obvious that we couldn't stay forever. Still, somehow we had all become a family in the time we'd spent together, and leaving altogether wasn't possible. Besides, Matthew still needed extra help running the Bed and Breakfast that Gilbert alone couldn't offer.

"Why don't we build a house, Wiggie?" Feliciano suggested suddenly. "If Matthew will sell us some of his land, we can buy it and you can design a house, _ve~_! Then we'll be close enough to help, but far enough that we won't bug Gil and Mattie!"

Shocked by his thinking and wondering how I hadn't thought of that, I stared at him a moment. "That…that is a great idea," I told him, a smile breaking across my face. "I am sure Matthew will sell us the land…and we have saved up quite a bit of money, although most of it came from him." I thought for a moment. "It will be payback for everything he has done to help us. And we can still continue to assist with his business."

"Yay! Let's go ask right now!" He leapt to his feet, excited, just a Matthew walked in the room with Gilbird on one shoulder and an unfamiliar white bird on the other. "Mattie~!"

He held letters in his hand, a slightly distressed look on his face. "Um, sorry to interrupt, but…do you two know when I mailed a letter to, uh, 'Toris and Feliks'? I don't think I know anyone by those names…"

I stood, hurrying over. "No, I apologize…I was the one who sent a letter to them."

"Oh…well, I guess it didn't go through," Matthew muttered, handing me the envelope.

The word rejected was stamped on the front in thick, dark ink. My heart stopped. Anxiously, I opened the envelope and dug through the contents…it was still there. Every single dollar remained untouched. A sense of guilt flooded through me as I realized what this failed letter likely meant.

Seeing my reaction, he continued on. "B-but there is another letter. Gilbird brought it, along with Pierre. It's from Antonio, so I thought maybe Gilbert had written him, but he said it had nothing to do with him…"

Suddenly, I was anxious again and I took the letter, ripping it open.

I hadn't expected a response. Quickly, I scanned it over, feeling sick to my stomach as the words sank in. It wasn't very long, but somehow, that made it much more powerful.

_Dear Ludwig,_

_ All I've wanted since Lovi went missing was to know. I spent so many days missing him, wishing that he would come home to me, praying that he was still alive…but somehow, I knew when he was gone. Having the answer is like those prayers being answered. It's so much better than being left in the dark. And that's why I can forgive you now; you told me what I needed to know. So even though it's too late for Lovi and me, I have just one request: Please take good care of Feli. Love him while you still can and always tell him what he means to you. His happiness means everything. _

_ Antonio_

Touched, I folded the letter and slipped it in my pocket.

"What did it say, Wiggie?" Feliciano asked.

How could I even begin to explain? I looked into his eyes, at the compassion and selflessness there. "Antonio…has given us a chance to start over again," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Understanding, he took my hand. "That's great! Now we can ask Mattie, right?"

I nodded, letting Feliciano do all the talking as he explained our idea to Matthew. Antonio had forgiven me. Even though I had taken something so important from his life, he had in turn given me the chance for a happy future. He had given us permission to move on.

And I knew from the look on Feliciano's face that we would.


End file.
